


Prince, Sorcerer, & Thief

by Jougetsu



Category: Aladdin (1992), Aladdin - All Media Types, Aladdin: The Animated Series
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Drama, Gen, Multi, Mystery, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-10 05:39:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5572968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jougetsu/pseuds/Jougetsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sorcerer Mozenrath of the Black Sands is dying and only the blood of a relative can save him. Much to his dismay Aladdin is that blood relative, but even he's not enough to save his new found brother and the two must seek out their estranged father. </p><p>(Or "What if Aladdin Movie 3 was about Aladdin and Mozenrath finding out they're brothers like originally planned by Disney and then merge that with the Cassim story line" the AU.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> * Aplogies to the_Archivist! Your comment got deleted when I was re-posting/editing the latest chapters! Thank you so much for your kinds words! You inspired me to start posting again. I'm so sorry your original comment got deleted. 
> 
> Canon Notes:  
> According to Disney the Aladdin 3 movie was supposed to be about Aladdin and Mozenrath (a recurring antagonist from the Aladdin TV series) finding out they were brothers. This got re-worked into Aladdin finding his long-lost father. I've always liked the idea of merging the two plot lines into one story and so this came about. 
> 
> This largely follows the Aladdin & the King of Thieves story line with a few key differences namely the inclusion of Mozenrath and other characters from the TV series. Jasmine gets her own arc.
> 
> Rating Notes:  
> The mature rating is mostly for non-explicit mentions of violence, queer themes/topics, and mentions of historical pederasty. I would probably say it's more YA Fantasy Adventure novel in tone and rating than anything else. 
> 
> Historical/Cultural Notes:  
> Let's face it the Aladdin canon culturally is a hot mess that was largely written by Western creators for Western audiences with very few Middle Eastern or Islamic staff members. I've tried to smooth it out the best I can without making it unrecognizable to the canon. I do come from half Islamic household, but of Turkish descent not the Arabic and Persian cultures that the Aladdin movie & TV canon draws from. Concrit is always welcome!

Sorcerer Mozenrath did not wait for the guards to push open the heavy doors to the city. He had little interest in slipping in unseen. Subtlety was never his strong suit and in his particular quest Mozenrath felt being open would give his bid more credence. With his glove raised the magic gained strength and shook the great doors nearly off their iron hinges. 

He entered the threshold, head held high as he rode with his familiar Xerxes slithering ahead in the air. A small knot of guards greeted him with their swords held high. They posed no threat and in normal circumstances he would’ve knocked them aside without a second thought. 

“Good morning, guardsmen,” Mozenrath managed to keep his sneer minimal. “You are looking well, better than last I saw you.” Indeed the last time he had them hypnotized or unconscious. Not that he even knew if these were the same guardsmen as before. He didn’t keep track of other people’s peons. “I seek an audience at the Palace if you would be so kind as to escort me.” 

One guard bolder than the rest had the audacity to ask, “Are they expecting your arrival, Honored Sir? We were not told of an escort this morn.”

Pretty manners were no shield for Mozenrath’s wrath normally, but he needed to accumulate a small share of goodwill in his new endeavor. “Indeed they do not, guardsman. I am afraid to say I am the much maligned unexpected guest this morn. Nevertheless I shall bear the brunt of their displeasure not you, good guardsmen. Let us make way.” 

There were mutters a plenty. “He is a black-hearted villain, we ought throw him out,” was one that reached his ears. “A more vile sorcerer there never was, you would not know it but he has done much evil in our city,” came another. 

“Good men, do not judge me solely by my past deeds. I am quite reformed in my goals and need only seek a pleasant talk with Prince Aladdin and his wife Her Grace Princess Jasmine. If all goes well you shall see the back of me by nightfall or tomorrow morn with no ill change in fair Agrabah.” Each sweet word sat awkwardly in Mozenrath’s mouth. 

The bold guard took the reins of Mozenrath’s stallion and nodded solemnly. “I shall accompany you to the palace, Honored Sir, if you would allow me the honor. We do not allow harm to come to our guests and our hospitality is a sacred charge.” 

The others looked at him as though he were mad, but a touch of madness was needed when dealing with magic Mozenrath well knew. “Then let us be off. Do not touch Xerxes without his permission,” he cautioned with a sly grin. “He does have a propensity to bite strangers.” 

On cue Xerxes twisted about the young guard’s arm on the reins and showed his fearsome fangs. “Greetingssssss, guardssssman.” 

An audibly thick gulp hiccuped in the guard’s throat, but he lost none of his nerve as he walked ahead calling out, “Make way for the Great Sorcerer Mozenrath of Black Sands. Make way! Make way!” 

At the dawn hour only the pious, the destitute, and the more industrious merchants were awake. They gawked, gaped, and whispered. It was impossible to gauge which actually recognized him and which were simply curious peasants. It mattered not. He favored some with an imposing glare, others with a smirk, but many he simply did not acknowledge. After all the peasantry had nothing to do with him. Part of what made the Black Sands so appealing was their distinct lack of citizenry. 

Closer to the palace the wealthier merchants gave signs of genuflection. Some praised his name and others brought out wares and still others fawned and bowed as though he might favor them with a magic trick of two. The flattery was hollow though sweet making it hard to tell if it was more to his liking than pure fear. 

The welcome was not so easy at the palace as at the city wall. A burly man that Mozenrath dimly remembered as one of the most prominent nuisances of past encounters in Agrabah ordered a halt and had two dozen men at his back with more archers on the walls. “Turn back, vile snake! We have suffered your presence too often. Do not forget we have the might of a genie and our army to face you.” 

“Your army and your genie have never proved an obstacle in the past,” Mozenrath replied. “Now clear the way, man, and leave me to my business with Prince Aladdin of the Alleys and Ways. It is him to which I wish to speak and I recall your great dislike him readily. Surely it is nothing to you if he comes out of our conversation the loser.” 

Perhaps it was the sun gaining height overhead or plain censure of his behavior but the captain of the guard turned slightly red. “I am sworn to protect the royal family and those who reside with them and you are a known enemy. If I must die in that duty, Allah has prepared my heart.” 

“Your death is not sought by the Lord of Creation today, guard. Or at least not by my hand. I am a known enemy of the past. Today my business is quite dull and nothing nefarious. I do however need to speak with the newly appointed prince on a matter that is grave to me but trifling to you.” He dismounted from his stallion with the help of his young escort guard. “You may execute me on the Sultan’s orders later if it so pleases him, but the fortunetellers are not forecasting that event so do not become overexcited.” 

The captain was holding his ground when the upstart prince himself came flying on his carpet to the gates. “Mozenrath! They tell me you wanted to see me so here I am,” Aladdin grandstanded in the fashion of particularly irksome heroes. One had to admire his style if nothing else. 

“Indeed I am seeking an audience today,” Mozenrath gave a half bow of courtesy. “But the matter is best discussed within the palace walls and not in the streets. Bring you genie to the parley if you like. Bring twenty genies if you have them.” 

Aladdin laughed, the sound infuriating to Mozenrath’s ears, “Twenty genies are far too much trouble. We are happy enough with our own Genie.” His eyes turned hard for a brief moment, “You are welcome as long as you keep your magic to yourself and do not so much as swat a fly.” 

“You ought to have servants to do the fly swatting for you and any guests,” Mozenrath said. With a dismissive wave he led his steed be taken to the stables. “After you hear my tale you shall not worry about the issue of magic.” 

Aladdin held out his arm indicating that Mozenrath should join him on the carpet. The young man was far too trusting. In the past it had worked to Mozenrath’s advantage and it still might. He took the proffered hand with hardly a twitch of his eyebrows even as the magic jumped and crackled around him. Each crackle a small needle of pain shooting up his arm and threatening to hurry down his spine. 

The carpet rose over the walls surrounding the palace, extravagant gardens and pavilions passed beneath them. Servants were bustling everywhere, shuttling yards of silks, trays of food, and baskets laden with all manner of objects. It was the busiest he’d ever seen this palace. Being used to the emptiness of his Black Sands kingdom Mozenrath had scarce noticed it before. 

“What’s all this commotion? Your castle is usually as vacant as my own.” 

Now it was Aladdin’s turn to gawk. “You must be kidding. You really don’t know?”

Laboring in ignorance was not something Mozenrath had ever suffered. “Do not toy with me. I would not ask if I knew the particulars of your household.” 

“Me and Jasmine’s wedding feast begins tomorrow,” Aladdin said. “I thought you were here to be a great big pain in the ass one last time. Maybe stop the wedding or give a creepy gift that curses the entire city.” 

“The wedding feast at long last,” Mozenrath mused. “Now I do feel as though my visit will be a disappointment. I have no gift, cursed or otherwise, for you and the princess.” 

“Fair warning, Jasmine will not be happy to see you. She’s already stressed out about the feast. I don’t think any unexpected guest is going to please her,” said Aladdin. “I’m always up for excitement as long as you’re not planning on killing anyone.” 

“The princess has good reason not to welcome me, however my visit concerns you though she may have some words about it.” The carpet slowed to a smooth stop and the young men stepped off and into a pavilion where Princess Jasmine was giving instructions to her maids. 

To her credit she did not scream or shout or even scowl. Instead she dismissed her staff calmly and stayed seated upon her cushions waiting for her husband-to-be to explain why such a personage was in their home. If he wasn’t immune to the charms of women Mozenrath would have made a bid for her long ago. 

“Look who I found giving Razoul a heart attack out front,” Aladdin joked. “Claims he’s not here to curse our unborn children at the wedding or give a cursed enchanted object as a wedding present so I figured we could give him a cup of tea before Genie has to haul him out.” 

“Mozenrath, how tired you must be. The Black Sands are a long way from Agrabah much to our pleasure.” Jasmine poured a cup of tea for him with a steely smile. 

“Your Grace is all kindness,” he seated himself on the cushion opposite her. Aladdin stood over him for several long moments before retreating to his own cushion. 

“What brings your notorious self to Agrabah this day? Surely we have nothing that would intrigue you that you have not seen here before. The wedding fare shall be splendid, but not enough to tempt a man who has his own magical kingdom,” Jasmine said.

“I am dying, Your Grace.” There it was laid bare. Well not quite as bare as could be.

“That is no secret to us,” Jasmine replied. “You refuse to give up that evil glove and it is taking the toll price of you. What has changed?” 

“Several months ago I chanced upon a set of notes by an alchemist from a library I acquired around that time.” True enough when all was said and done. They did not need to know that the library was taken rather by force though they probably knew enough of his methods to surmise correctly. “My body may be restored with the blood of a close relation and provided I do not use the glove anymore should live a long and healthy life.” 

Aladdin and Jasmine traded looks without a single word, but Mozenrath needed no interpretation. While they were soft-hearted creatures that never wished death upon even their enemies (more the fools them) they were hesitant to help extend the lifespan of an evil sorcerer even if he wouldn’t be able to wreak quite the same havoc as before. 

“So what do you want with us?” Aladdin finally spoke. “I mean I’m not really crazy about helping you go on hunt to make you live even longer because you haven’t exactly renounced giving up your plan to rule the Seven Deserts while you’ve been sitting here asking for our help.” 

“It would be much more difficult to conquer the Seven Deserts without my glove so I suppose I must focus on a different goal. Perhaps if I live I shall take up calligraphy or miniature painting,” he gave an exaggerated sigh and petted Xerxes who hissed happily in response. Thankfully Aladdin’s pet monkey was nowhere to be seen otherwise he’d have to call off Xerxes from his inevitable biting and that would certainly stall negotiations. “As for what I want with you? Well my dear brother it’s a bit of your blood I need to restore myself.” 

Aladdin blinked and then laughed uproariously. “Brother? We are not brothers! I know you think I’m gullible, but I’m not that gullible. Give you my blood on your word that we are brothers? You must be dreaming. You tried to possess my body before. I’m not even going to mention all the times you’ve tried to outright kill me.” 

“Summon your pet Genie. Let him take a bit of blood from you and I and he shall prove it so.” 

A blueish mauve smoke flooded the pavilion for a scant few seconds and in a flash Genie materialized with his absurd grin and that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Do my dainty little ol’ ears deceive me or did someone just drop a revelation so big it ought to have been prophesied? Brothers, oh brotherhood, to have a brother! If it’s true I can’t say I’m surprised; the two of you always had an evil twin vibe going on all through a glass darkly, am I right or am I right?” 

Another poof and a shower of golden sparkles had the Genie shift into a solemn faced physick with a long gray beard and a medical scalpel. “Hold still and say ‘aaaaahhhh’, what am I saying? Skip the last part, but do hold still because this’ll hurt until I get the healing magic ready to go.” 

Mozenrath’s good hand was de-gloved instantly and Genie made a clean cut across the pad of this thumb before collecting the droplets into a magicked up vial. The same process was repeated on Aladdin and both wounds were closed in the blink of an eye. For a significantly weakened freed servant class genie Aladdin’s Genie had marvelously effective healing powers. 

Despite it already having been healed Aladdin sucked on his finger that was pricked, likely out of reflex. Mozenrath could feel his brow furrowing. That’s my brother, he thought as the realization finally hit home. The entire journey to Agrabah he had ruminated on how the plucky boy was his blood relation, but here and now seeing him in all his quirks and habits made it real. He’d spared Aladdin’s life before as he’d grown to respect him. Now there could be no question about it, Mozenrath would find it nearly impossible to let any harm come to him henceforth. 

Foolish sentimentality! It had to have been a side effect of the curse or his own heart weakened from his existential despair. Brothers have killed each other for less than nothing in history. Still a protective urge was beginning to sprout dainty tendrils inside him. There were indeed some mannerisms they had which were eerily alike and others so distinct it was readily apparent how different their lives had been so far. 

A great calamity of bells rang out and it took all of Mozenrath’s experience dealing with unpleasant surprises to keep himself in check and not blast everyone in the pavilion. Naturally the source of the commotion was Genie. 

“Congratulations, Al! You’ve won the grand prize of one…” the Genie shone a beam of light upon Mozenrath and the sorcerer suddenly found himself atop a lighted dais, “Half brother! Yes, your evil half brother comes equipped with all the marvelous trappings found in stories and tales! Is he brooding? Yes! Is he cunning? As a desert fox! Is he tall, dark, and handsome? Aye and aye! Does he share a sire with you? Well yes indeedy he does! So Al, are you going to accept your prize of one half brother, of an evil disposition and megalomaniac ways? Or will you take what’s behind curtain number two?” 

Naturally a heavy velvet curtain appeared on the dais next to Mozenrath. He’d let himself forget about the irritating nonstop showmanship of Aladdin’s genie. No wonder everyone wanted to kill this little band of do-gooders. 

Aladdin circled the dais with a hand on his chin. “We’re actually brothers? This is unexpected. Hmm, what happens if I pick curtain number two?” 

Genie chuckled, “That means you’re rejected the grand prize and he’s back on his merry way to the Land of the Black Sands. So what will it be, Al?” 

Mozenrath had been so distracted by the banter and parlor tricks that he didn’t notice Aladdin climbing the steps of the dais until they were nearly nose-to-nose. This close he could smell the oils leftover from the prince’s bath, could count the birthmarks dotted here and there on his brother’s face, could see that the shape of their noses were identical. 

Had we grown up together how much more would we be alike? Mozenrath wondered. Aladdin was three years younger by his calculations. Would Aladdin have toddled after him in their childhood? Worshiping him as his idol in all things? He’d probably been a cheerful laughing baby and exactly the sort to crawl after anyone he liked. Of course the entire train of thought was useless as that course of events had been impossible. Where would they have lived? Mozenrath could hardly imagine his mother taking in a child that was not her own. As it was she had only wanted a single heir and no husband to tie her down. 

“I think,” Aladdin gave a crooked smile, “I think I’m gonna go with the grand prize after all. Or at least until it turns out he was playing us the whole time.” Quite unexpectedly he pulled Mozenrath into a hug and all the dais and its trappings disappeared in the pavilion. “Try not to get anyone killed, okay? I think I’d actually like to have a bigger family not have them exiled on a magical barge or something.” 

Mozenrath kept his posture rigid and made of show of rolling his eyes, “I won’t make any promises about those standing in our way. However, I will take an oath not to harm you, the princess, the sultan, your genie, and your assorted pets unless I am attacked first.” 

“Hugs aren’t attacks, just so you know,” Aladdin teased. 

How dare he take this so well! Mozenrath wasn’t entirely sure what he had been hoping for. A bit more denial like before? An onslaught of dejection, revulsion, and fear that his greatest foe was of his own blood? On the other hand complete unassuming trust would make Mozenrath’s mission a great deal easier. 

“Aw, this is just too much for a sap like me,” exclaimed Genie, who then had the nerve to embrace the two of them. “Bring it on in, boys. Brothers together at last and they’re not fighting for once!” 

This. This was to be his life if he wanted to live. 

Jasmine coughed delicately to get their attention. They were all immediately seated on their respective cushions with an alacrity that could only have been the work of the genie. “You were telling the truth about your relationship. Yet I noticed you only said the word ‘blood’ with no qualifiers. How much of Aladdin’s blood do you need for your spell? I will not let you drain him dry as I am still very fond of him as you might imagine. We are getting married on the morrow.” 

“At the moment? I cannot give you an answer. My calculations were made before I began my travels towards Agrabah. If the curse hasn’t progressed he would only suffer weakness and lethargy for a few days. If I need more blood, we shall have to figure out a way around that.” Mozenrath knew he would never be allowed to get away with purposefully or even accidentally draining his brother’s body dry of blood. Even a reversal of the curse would leave him unable to use magic and the Genie would find a very ingenious way to make him regret ever coming to Agrabah.

Aladdin being Aladdin was nonplussed while his wife-to-be arched her eyebrows to showcase her displeasure. Luckily for Mozenrath the genie spoke up. 

“Blood magic is a very old tradition, Princess. Before writing, before civilization, before even humankind old. It’s not easily performed and it’s hard to tell how well it’s going until it’s finished,” Genie explained, for once no shape-shifting or jokes to color his speech. 

“That sounds dangerous. In fact it sounds like there is a greater chance of Aladdin dying more than anything else,” she said. “I don’t need to tell you I don’t care for those odds.” 

“There is actually a greater chance of myself perishing than my brother,” Mozenrath paused to remind her of their familial bond. “If the ritual seems to be going poorly for him then you’ll simply stop it. These old rites are complicated and if you break the magic seal that will be writ upon the floor the whole ritual will come to a halt. I will either die on the spot or simply be uncured and go back to dying slowly while Aladdin will be fine. Again he may be weak from blood loss, but there are no magical side effects as he is the donor here not the recipient.” 

“It’s true, Princess,” the genie added. “We would see Al’s suffering long before Mozzie here could receive any real benefit.” 

“Jasmine, I have to try,” Aladdin turned to Jasmine, his expression doe-eyed and pouting. “He’s my brother. What would you do if you found out you had a sister that was dying? And you knew you could help her?”

“Very well, I have no wish to stop you from helping family. Just be careful,” she shook her head in apparent disbelief at the whole situation. Then Jasmine fixed her attention on Mozenrath. “I will not waste my breath voicing threats that you will think nothing of.” 

Interesting, Mozenrath had been certain she would have talked up her imperial influence or spoke of a woman’s wrath when betrayed. Instead she was calm and left the consequences to his imagination. In time the princess would make a very fearsome sultana and Mozenrath found he was looking forward to her coming into her power. If he had to be related to the Agrabah royal family at least it could accumulate a bit more prestige. 

“Let me escort you to your chambers, honored sir,” the genie appeared at his side, dressed impeccably as a steward. “You must be fatigued from your magical death curse, family reunion, and ride across the desert with only your existential thoughts for company.” 

“He had meeeeee!” Xerxes took the time to try biting the genie. His teeth did not penetrate the genie’s form so Xerxes defaulted by growling at the creature before returning to curl around Mozenrath’s shoulders. 

“Indeed, I had Xerxes,” Mozenrath petted his familiar fondly. “And the existential thoughts. I am unhappily possessed of the uncanny ability to divide my attention without loss of cognitive understanding.” 

“If I were you I might want the existential thoughts as the company,” half-whispered the genie, “Did you know he bites?” 

“He doesn’t bite me,” said Mozenrath. “He doesn’t bite anyone he likes. However that list is quite short at the moment so I would watch one’s extremities carefully when he’s in a sour mood. Lead the way, genie. I do indeed require some rest.” 

Not to mention his brother and soon to be sister-in-law needed time to discuss among themselves whatever do-gooders worried about. 

“Indeed you will need much rest since you will be at the head table tomorrow,” Jasmine said brightly. 

“A thousand pardons, princess, but you have me at a loss,” Mozenrath said. 

“Naturally as the elder brother of the groom you will be greeting our many guests and making them feel welcome to Agrabah. You will also dine at the head table with Aladdin, myself, and my father and during the feasting receive the attentions of our friends and thanking them for their generosity,” Jasmine’s smile was unadulterated sadistic joy.

Aladdin seemed to be stifling a laugh. 

“You would introduce me as Aladdin’s elder brother to all and sundry? Why in the name of Creation would you do that?” Mozenrath stared in horror. He thought he’d be able to skip the wedding boredom and rest in his chambers, perhaps search their library for anything of use or seek out Jafar’s old rooms. 

“Genie has proved you are indeed brothers and brothers attend each other’s important events,” Jasmine was clearly enjoying herself hugely. The revenge had already started. “Not to mention that your reputation might keep some guests in line.” 

“Are you expecting such a disturbance?”

“This is Agrabah, Mozenrath, at this point I would faint from shock if my wedding wasn’t disturbed in some disastrous fashion. We have friends, acquaintances, and enemies all in spades. You are renown for your ruthlessness and magical prowess and being introduced as Aladdin’s very protective elder brother may dissuade some of those enemies from making a nuisance of themselves,” Jasmine replied. 

“She’s got a point. You’re kind of a big deal, not that I need to tell you that,” Aladdin clapped his shoulder. “Your ego is already the size of this palace. But the point is I’m not ashamed of you. If we are brothers I want us to start without any deceit. Let everyone know. And if it also keeps some of our more insistent enemies at bay so much the better.” 

“I think I liked you all rather better when you were more naive. You’ve all become too savvy and opportunist when those are my traits,” Mozenrath tried for an imperious tone and hoped it didn’t come out petulant. 

“What can I say?” Aladdin joked. “You’ve rubbed off on me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mozenrath teams up with Razoul and Genie to make certain the wedding goes off without a hitch.

The wedding guests had come from near and far. Most of them well-wishers and firm friends with his brother. For someone who’d lived entirely within these city walls until scarcely two years ago Aladdin certainly had a diverse range in acquaintanceship. The acquisition of a genie and a magic carpet indeed seemed to be aids in broadening one’s horizons. Still Mozenrath was impressed despite himself. The rumors of some of the gifts to be presented were astounding even if one discounted nine of every ten and assumed the tenth was exaggerated as well. The princess was wise to assume there would be trouble as the gifts alone would tempt any thief and even some of the less scrupulous guests and their retinues. A single genie and a motley crew of a guard force didn’t seem nearly adequate. Perhaps if the wedding had take place two years ago when the couple first became engaged it would be enough, but their travels had put Agrabah on the map once more as a jewel of a target. 

On the eve of the wedding Mozenrath sought out the captain of the guard to discuss or at least gain an understanding of the security situation. He found the man hunched over his desk, gritting his teeth and looking fairly murderous. 

“If you’re here to slay me, go ahead,” the captain growled as Mozenrath stood in the doorway. “Anything would be preferable than this wedding that’s going to happen.” 

“Always assuming a risk of homicide,” Mozenrath tutted. “Is it just me you expect that from or does your charming personality just have that effect on all who meet you?” 

“I can believe you’re brothers,” the captain said. “You’re both annoying enough to tempt a holy man to murder and you both believe you’re above the rules.” 

“When you’re as talented as the two of us,” no use distancing himself from the relationship Mozenrath decided, “the rules are seldom a good fit and I abhor bad tailoring.” 

“Get on with whatever you came here for,” the captain said gesturing to the spare chair near his desk. “I need to finish these patrol rotations before dawn.” 

Mozenrath took the seat, it was as hard and unyielding as the owner of the office. “It occurs to me that my brother’s wedding will attract no small amount of ne’er-do-wells and I came to offer my, I’d say humble but it’d be a sinful falsehood, my not-so-humble assistance. A thousand pardons, but I do not believe I have had the honor of learning your name Captain…?

“Razoul Dalir Shazad,” he said. “Your brother and you are ne’er-do-wells or have you forgotten? You’re right that the princess’ wedding has enticed vermin from all over the Seven Deserts. And what do I have at my disposal? Two dozen loyal men and a few hundred new recruits that are either barely old enough to grow a beard, utterly incompetent, crooks, or all of the above.” 

“What of the genie? Surely you do not doubt his slavish loyalty to those who reside here?” If his magic wasn’t literally killing him Mozenrath would have conjured a drink to lubricate the discussion. Not to mention the both of them could do with a drink considering the day ahead of them. 

“He is the worst of them all,” Razoul fairly roared. “His constant tricks and sudden magic are security nightmares. He’s loyal, aye, but too scattered to be of any real help. The new recruits are constantly distracted by his antics and they had little focus to begin with.” 

Mozenrath fought back a smirk. For all his savage facade his countryman seemed to possess some sense. “I can try to convince my dear brother that the genie ought stay in human guise during the event and to keep the magic limited to birds in pies and fireworks at nightfall.” 

“If your idiot brother can make that genie do anything half so reasonable then it would be a miracle.” 

“I have been known to make the impossible happen,” Mozenrath preened. 

“Was that all you came here for?” asked Razoul. “To claim you can tame the prince of alleys and his official live-in nuisance?” 

“How absurd, Captain,” said Mozenrath. “That is a mere courtesy, a trifle. I was actually thinking of something practical . There are defensive magical seals I use in my own palace designed to trap and hold intruders in place until I am ready to deal with them. They do no harm to the victim so you may arrest and punish intruders at your leisure. A person need only touch or step upon one and be trapped.” 

That got the man’s attention. “More than three quarters of the men I have are bumbling and that’s putting it kindly. How would you keep them from getting stuck in the seals themselves?”

That question Mozenrath hadn’t been prepared for. His own mamluks naturally avoided the seal locations and there was no one else to set them off save intruders. “I could put a reversed version of the seal upon their shoes rendering them immune to the effects.” 

Razoul blinked and then laughed shaking his head. “Even if I trusted you to do such a thing you don’t have the time to enchant over a thousand shoes before dawn. Get anything else up those fancy sleeves?” 

“I beg your pardon that my undead servants that may I add have no higher brain functions whatsoever have no trouble avoiding defense seals,” the young sorcerer’s tone went as cold as a desert night. 

“I’m rather jealous,” said Razoul. “Undead underlings would be smarter than this lot and complain less to boot, but I think the smell would prove too much for me. That doesn’t solve our problem as I am not willing to let you murder my guards to make them better guards. How are you going to keep my guards from setting off the seals?”

Mozenrath was nearly peeved enough to give up the whole endeavor until he remembered two things; one he really needed his brother alive and two he was really determined to prove this man wrong. “I’ll enchant the perimeter just beyond the patrol route. With any luck it will capture intruders and not the guards as long as they don’t stray too far. Even if your guards need to give chase the intruders would activate the seals and be caught.” 

“That’s the best we can hope for with this group,” Razoul shuffled through his papers before handing one to Mozenrath. “This is a map of the palace and the grounds with all the patrol routes labeled. Mark where you’ll put the seals and I’ll brief the men in the morning.” 

“May I also suggest we seal the royal chambers and treasury until the guests leave? Keep guards posted outside the doors and do not let servants through. Weddings are notorious for attracting assassins just as much as thieves,” Mozenrath said as he scribbled down the best placements for seals upon the map. 

“You’re very thorough,” Razoul affected a bland tone, but the suspicion was so thick that it could be cut with a knife.” 

“I need my brother alive, ideally in good health and spirits if I want to continue inhabiting this mortal sphere. If that requires improving the security at his wedding feast then it is a very small price to pay for my life,” said Mozenrath. A few more seals down the side of the towers and upon their domed tops would be sensible, Aladdin did not possess the only flying carpet in the world and certain assassins were known for their climbing prowess. 

“I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” sighed Captain Razoul. “I still don’t trust the pair of you, but I’ll take what I can get for now.” 

“It’s gratifying to know that that not everyone in this palace is infected with Aladdin’s brand of naivete. Otherwise it’d be tempting to conquer the place to teach a lesson,” Mozenrath said half in jest. 

For a moment the guard was stunned before he realized Mozenrath’s threat was not truly in earnest. “Go set up your magical seals, sorcerer. We’ve both much to do before dawn and not nearly enough hours.” 

To be dismissed so lightly was galling, but Mozenrath knew it was futile to protest the treatment. Let the lowly guard think he was in charge. 

The seals took longer than Mozenrath expected. Not because he was out of practice, but there were so many small ones and oddly shaped ones needed for all the nooks and crannies of the place that were out of the way of the main patrol routes. Usually in his domicile he made the seals quite large as he didn’t have to worry about guards or servants activating them.

Blessings upon little Xerxes who was adept at quickly and accurately placing the seal sheets where his master couldn’t reach - not without magic anyway. 

“But masssster,” said Xerxes after they finished. “They have no charge. They are all usssselesssss.” 

“They will be charged and quite strongly too, Xerxes.” 

“Nooo!” Xerxes cried. “Massster will be in pain! Master might die from charging sssso many ssseals!” 

“Worry not, little one,” Mozenrath held his familiar close a moment. “I have no taste for death. We do have someone here who would activated these without so much as breaking a sweat.” 

Xerxes was puzzled for only a moment as he was still brighter than most of the palace residents. “The genie!” 

“Just so,” said Mozenrath. He then raised his voice slightly and threw out a tinge of magic to the words just to ensure that he wasn’t ignored. “I, Mozenrath son of Cassim bin Hassan Al-Rajhi and son of the great jadis Laleh daughter of the mighty jadis Anousheh, do call upon the genie of Agrabah, his majestic magnificence of the smokeless fire of Creation, to aid me in protecting his former master Aladdin bin Cassim bin Hassan. By these words I entreat you to appear before me.” 

The genie eschewed his signature fanfare, quietly materializing at Mozenrath’s side with nary a sound or spark. “Honey child, I may be spry for an immortal, but even I need my beauty sleep.” He took the guise of a plump matron hastily dressed in a house gown. “Is this where you attempt to trap me or nullify my magic on the eve of Al’s wedding?” 

“Why does everyone keep accusing me of that today?” huffed Mozenrath. Honestly, it was getting tiresome.

“Darling it’s sort of your hallmark,” Genie pinched his cheeks, still clad as a matron and just as patronizing. “Then why did you call upon little ol’ me with an enchanted oath? Ooh, are we taking Al on a surprise night on the town?” The matron look was dropped in favor of a roguish man of the world in gaudy silks and flashy jewels.

Mozenrath rolled his eyes for what seemed to be the umpteenth time since arriving in Agrabah and waited for the energetic being to run out of steam. “After conferring with Captain Shazad, I came up with extra security measures for the wedding.” He opened the scroll of the palace map with the seal markers noted upon it. “The defense seals are already in place however I now lack the ability to charge them without killing myself.”

Genie inspected the map and the diagram of the seal giving a long low whistle. “This is nice work, kiddo. What is this late Sumerian spellwork by way of mid-Hellenistic Hermeticism? It’s risky, unique, and beautiful.” 

With the genie’s constant stream of juvenile antics Mozenrath sometimes forgot how knowledgeable the immortal could be. His face went hot and surely he was not blushing from being complimented by the strangest genie he’d ever met. “Ah yes, it’s a much improved upon version of an idea my former mentor had but could never synthesize properly.”

“Not much for modesty, eh?,” the genie flexed his fingers, a golden light collecting underneath the skin as the collated magics. “Guess you don’t really need it when you’re that good, but here’s a tip anyway, kid. Get some anyway. You’ll need at least a pinch of it if you’re serious about getting Al’s help for good. “

Before Mozenrath could retort a beautiful burst of magic erupted from the genie’s hand and flew to each of the seals making them glow brilliant gold and turquoise before fading into the inky blackness of the night. 

“Anything else honored customer would like before I go?” the genie put on the garb of a coffeehouse page boy server.

“’Twas the seals I required aid for. There’s nothing else I can do for tomorrow’s disaster waiting to happen.” Mozenrath let his eyes close a few moments and he thought longingly of the soft bed and pillows of his current palatial suite. 

“Aww, level with me Mozzie,” Genie resumed his customary form and nudged him with one big blue elbow. “Are you a bitty bit jealous that your baby brother is getting hitched before you’ve even had quality time to spend not trying to kill him?” 

“Let me assure you that the only feelings I have towards this wedding are those of sublime irritation and frustrated inconvenience. I wish for nothing more for the whole affair to be other and done with so that I may take the rite to be cured and forget that any of this ever came to pass.” 

The genie didn’t say another word, but there was some damnable emotion in his eyes that put Mozenrath on edge. It may have been pity or worse sympathy. There were only four hours until dawn and then he had to only last until that evening. Hopefully no one would murder his brother before he had the chance to gather some blood because he really didn’t want to die and he certainly didn’t want to die in a lame place like Agrabah at a family wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Razoul isn't given a full name in canon so I gave him one here. Farsi/Persian speaking readers, please let me know if I messed up and used something wrong/culturally inappropriate for his name.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over a decade had passed since Cassim had last been to Agrabah.

Over a decade had passed since Cassim had last been to Agrabah. He wasn’t avoid it per se, he merely had no reason to bother with the place. There were richer cities, better treasuries, and relic-laden ruins elsewhere. With no family left and Vizier Jafar’s stranglehold on the city’s underworld Agrabah wasn’t worth the trip until now. For the past year or so rumors had come out of the city in a frenzy all the more unexpected for its previous isolation. There was a genie at the palace, no two genies, no a score of genies! The vizier Jafar had been murdered, no the sorcerer had been enslaved by a more powerful wizard, no the vizier had been struck by lightning in a show of divine wrath. The sultan’s only daughter had taken up with a commoner and intended to make him her prince consort, no she had a scandalous male harem of commoners she’d chosen on a whim, no she was to marry the youngest son of a king to a small faraway tribute state.

In Cassim’s experience a genie’s lamp was nearly enough to trouble with some reconnaissance, but when the rumors had first started he had leads on better treasures to hunt than waste time chasing what was likely a blatant falsehood. 

Still something had happened in Agrabah. Cassim realized that when he had heard the wedding guest list and the gifts they intended to present through his many contacts. The sultan of Agrabah was known to be a doddering shut-in for years and his daughter was kept so hidden away that the occasional visiting royal or prospective suitor had rarely seen her. The city’s prominence had declined sharply in the last few decades, but now the wealthiest states were falling all over themselves to send their highest ranking guests and the most exotic gifts as tokens of esteem. There was even talk of non-human guests, ifrits, other genies, wandering immortals, and even some angels or demons in disguise. Rumors swirled of the most powerful magic users in the Seven Deserts flocking to attend. Such a reversal of fortune led credence to the idea that a genie might have been the force behind it all. Or else it was a confirmation of how that vizier had decimated such a mighty power in so short a time. 

A wedding feast of that magnitude had immediately brought it to the attention of the Forty Thieves. There would be targets ripe for the plucking at every turn and Agrabah’s lack of experience dealing with an influx of guests would make the plucking so easy it was shameful. However it was the hint that the oracle scepter of Delphi being presented to the couple that had Cassim determined to raid the treasury. If his contacts’ reports were correct the warrior queen of Galifem was taking it off her enchanted isle where it had been for centuries, originally rescued from Roman raiders five hundred years ago in a bloody battle. Even if the queen did not bring the scepter the chance to compromise her retinue for the chance to get the scepter later was too glorious to miss. He would be closer than ever to finding the lost hoard of the great Mycenaean treasures, thought lost to time and the sea. 

Iason’s Golden Fleece, the Helm of Pallas Athene, the Hand of Midas, the Spear of Achilles, and the Omphalos of Rhea treasures so legendary their existence had been doubted. The ancient treasures of the Hittites, the Sumerians, the Assyrians were well documented in the Seven Deserts, but the treasures of the Greek isles vanished so long ago and with scant written accounts they were but mirages in the desert. Nearly twenty years ago a respected old thief on his deathbed had passed on to Cassim a set of maps and documents pertaining to the mysterious Vanishing Isle. According to the fragmented records, one of the last twin kings of Atlantis had begged his magical ancestor Poseidon to preserve some of the treasures of Atlantis as the city drowned. That ancestor, be he a demon or a genie or some other sort of immortal, had granted that wish and placed the temple-palace of Atlantis upon the back of an ancient tortoise so that the wisdom and treasure of Atlantis may occasionally surface for the worthy mortal to find. 

Never in the same place twice and nearly impossible to predict its movements since sightings were so rare the Vanishing Isle had haunted Cassim’s dreams since then. He was known in the Seven Deserts as the King of Thieves, but if he could obtain the lost Golden Age Mycenaean treasures the world would name him a God of Thieves. The scepter of the oracle of Delphi could be asked one question by a man and be answered truly and clearly even if it pertained to the far future or the distant past. With a single question he could learn the precise location of the Vanishing Isle and secure his place in history. 

Infiltrating the wedding would be the easy part. The challenge was obtaining the scepter (and whatever other worthwhile treasures were nearby) and leaving the city before anyone could realize it was gone. A job so delicate usually had Cassim cherry-picking his best men for assistance, but failure he would not tolerate with the scepter on the line. The possibility of capture was too great if he didn’t have at least some men on the inside and others to create diversions when needed during the heist. At first half his men seemed a reasonable enough number until the news of more guards being hired and more tempting targets came through. With such wildly altered circumstances all forty of them would be required on the job. Five of his men were sent to apply as new guardsmen recruits and Cassim sent them with perfectly tailored aliases and modest ‘gifts’ that would act as juicy bribes to the recruiter. The greatest scrutiny at Agrabah’s borders would come just before the wedding by Cassim’s estimation. 

Besides the five taken into guard training he sent the next wave of two dozen men in the fortnight before the wedding feast. They went as poor traders, as pious pilgrims in need of lodging, as social climbers in brocade coats, as artisans in need of work. Those were the cream of the crop; the consummate confidence men more talented than any troupe of players. The less skilled and the lest trustworthy came with Cassim the morning of the feast hidden within baskets, barrels, and great earthenware jars upon the backs of beasts of burden. 

Morning was something of a misnomer. The queue for the city gates had begun the evening before. While Cassim’s men were not the guards posted at the gates Cassim was let through quite easily all in all. 

“What is your business in Agrabah, stranger?” queried the much too young guard his eyes foggy from lack of sleep. “State your name, occupation, and your purpose of visit.” 

“Hassan ibn-Yusuf,” Cassim lied smoothly. Aliases were always easiest to remember when they were half truth. Also he liked to think that his departed father would like one more heist in his name. “Ten thousand pardons, Sir Guardsman, I am a trader with the caravan of Sir Binyamin ibn-Abdullah, generous and beneficent he, however my stock arrived late and so here we are hoping to catch up to honorable Binyamin ibn-Abdullah with the rest of the goods to be delivered to the palace.” 

The harried young guards gave a cursory inspection of his alleged cargo. The combination of their fatigue and inexperience worked in his favor exactly as predicted and they waved Cassim through after extorting an immodest tax on poor Hassan ibn-Yusuf who swore he’d be telling Binyamin ibn-Abdullah, generous and beneficent he, of this outrage. Leaving two of his men dressed as his servants to continue leading the pack to the palace, Cassim slipped away to scout ahead. 

He thought he’d forgotten the streets of Agrabah yet they must have been carved indelibly into his heart for he navigated them so quickly it felt a dream. Once or twice his feet nearly carried him to his old house where Husniya and his son once waited for him before they died. Someone in the neighborhood had claimed it was an epidemic that carried of a third of the neighborhood, that he ought not feel any shame. Cassim didn’t feel any shame, only a bitter regret that was much easier to forget away from this city. He kept his eyes on the golden domes of the palace and reminded himself that a much greater legacy was awaiting him. 

Dressed as a middling merchant in a merchant’s best clothes Cassim blended in perfectly with the throng of people heading to the wedding. Looking polished enough to seem as if he belonged with them, but not so distinct as to be memorable in his fashion. Scores of men his age were dolled up in shades of blue with smart turbans or dressy cowls, he was merely one of many. Making small talk with those gathered outside the palace gates Cassim circulated through the crowd learning extra information and receiving many sly propositions. 

“My master will be in his cups all night,” a doe-eyed, fine featured apprentice said lowly, “If honored sir is overwhelmed by the heat of the feast I would be happy to walk with honored sir in the gardens.” 

“Good sir, I have been searching for a trader to buy my late husband’s old stock,” a pleasingly plump young widow told him with no small amount of desire in her eyes. “Perhaps sir would favor me with a talk later in the feast if sir is interested in the rugs. They are all very fine silk I assure you, sir.” 

And those were only two out of at least two dozen other such bold declarations. That wasn’t even counting the interested gazes and those who seemed too tongue-tied to make the first move. It’d been a while between dalliances for Cassim. Before news of the wedding he’d been tracking down a Sumerian witch queen’s tomb for weeks on end. It wasn’t as if he’d been entirely celibate the entire trek, but he made a point not to get too cozy too often with his men lest they start expecting favoritism from him. Far easier to tumble for a single night with someone who expects nothing more than a spot of pleasure. But he could not afford distractions with the oracle’s scepter on the line. 

Each one with deferred with politeness and promises of later though he knew he could not indulge them. Until the oracle’s scepter was safe in the hidden lair of the Forty Thieves he could not stop for any pleasure tempting though they may be. Save perhaps a goblet or so of wine at the wedding feast, after all the guests needed to participate in the toasts for the evening.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aladdin and Mozenrath discover a robbery in progress during the wedding feast.

Agrabah’s customary night chill did not permeate the wedding pavilion. The braziers gave off their smoky warmth and the throng of guests and servants heated the air. Aladdin drank little wine despite the toasts that had been going on all evening. Mozenrath and Razoul’s forecast of trouble for the evening had him on edge. Jasmine conducted herself as elegantly as any queen and he was still in awe every day that she had chosen to spend her life with him. Hopefully her good graces kept the guests from remembering his less polished behavior. He greeted everyone with enthusiasm and happy manners, trying to recall what the etiquette tutor had coached him in and feeling sick to his stomach that he had no memory of his lessons. It wasn’t their friends he was worried about, it was the strangers. Word of their adventures had reached all corners of the Seven Deserts prompting other rulers and notables to send representatives to their wedding to explore new alliances or trade agreements. 

Those were the ones that eyed him critically as though they were looking to buy a new mount in the marketplace. For all his robes and fine garb Aladdin had felt naked as they examined him and spouted courtesies that were clearly meant for his wife rather than for him. He took it all with a smile and it helped that Genie had been at their side since morning. At Mozenrath’s suggestion Genie had donned the guise of a human steward and surprisingly it had been good advice. 

“Let your genie stay a rumor, a mystery,” his brother said simply. “Even if an enemy doesn’t want to capture your genie they will still try to be prepared for what they know your advantages to be. Let people think your genie is gone or was never real so that their guard is down.” 

It went against Genie’s showy nature to be disguised, but everyone including Jasmine had to concede the point. 

“For as many enemies that may have left Agrabah alone for fear of Genie we cannot deny their have those who’ve come simply to kidnap him or try their strength against him and conquer the city,” she gave a pointed look at Mozenrath’s direction. “If you are comfortable, Genie, then perhaps a human disguise in front of guests would be best?” 

“At your service, Your Grace,” Genie dressed himself as a steward showing his willingness. To Aladdin’s relief Genie kept his features well Genie-ish so that he wasn’t a stranger walking around. The guise was nearly identical to the one Genie had used during the introduction of Prince Ali Ababwa. “They shall never know the secret up your sleeves, voluminous nicely embroidered sleeves at that!” 

Whenever Aladdin was afraid his manners were faltering, Genie-as-Steward would order refreshments for the guest or mention some little known fact about Agrabah’s history that had everyone distracted from the commoner-turned-prince’s embarrassment. “You’re doing fine, Al,” he whispered in Aladdin’s ear at several points during the day. “You’re charming their turbans off, kid.” 

Jasmine must have thought so too because she squeezed his hand a few times and in between guests said “I could not be prouder of you. You are a fine man with a brave heart, better than all the princes and kings we’ve met. It is my greatest joy to introduce you to those who do not know you.” 

Still Aladdin would be glad when the guests left in a few days and have the focus taken off of him for a while. Mozenrath’s arrival for all its weirdness was actually kind of a relief. Adventures, quests, magic spells, those were things he was familiar with. The tutors were going to increase after the wedding as he couldn’t be the co-ruler of Agrabah in the future with his current lack of education. Sure he was smart in a lot of ways, he didn’t doubt that about himself, but those weren’t enough to run an entire city-state. It wouldn’t be fair to Jasmine if he couldn’t pull his weight and no one deserved to tackle that job alone. 

Razoul stooped to give him a terse low-voiced report of the evening, which made Aladdin doubly glad he hadn’t drunken enough wine to cloud his mind. 

“We’ve caught about nine intruders in your brother’s magic seals so far and the guards have found a few more in other locations. Everything is going well and we’ll have extra guards at all the royal chambers including your brother’s tonight.”

“Thanks-er,” Aladdin stopped himself from the casual words. Razoul craved respect, it was likely that greed that led to his frustration of Aladdin’s sudden, and in Razoul’s eyes undeserved, social jump. “Many thanks, Captain Shazad. Your efforts are the lifeblood of our safety in the palace.” All right so he wasn’t great at the fancy talk yet, but he was trying. 

Razoul seemed unsure if the praise was mocking before deciding Aladdin was serious and finally said, “Don’t overdo it, brat. Rest easy and we’ll handle things.” 

For someone who’d always been against Aladdin’s place in the palace and the engagement, that was almost a blessing upon the marriage. He’d call it a victory for now because he didn’t have any illusions about things being cordial between them from here on out.

“What’s the news?” Jasmine asked quietly. She’d been engaged in a conversation with her father while Razoul had been reporting to Aladdin.

“They got a dozen intruders or so, some from Mozenrath’s seals so at least we know they’re working. And Razoul might be okay with this marriage for at least a few hours until he changes his mind about me again. You know, normal Agrabah stuff.” 

“I do hope there aren’t too many pickpockets in the crowd tonight,” sighed Jasmine. “I really would hate for our guests to think our guard force is slacking. Not that they cannot afford to lose a gem or two, but I don’t want our wedding to be remembered as a night of thievery.” 

“If they’re smart thieves, and they really should to have made it this far in, they’ll pick things that won’t be noticed,” said Aladdin. “Fatima used to say that you never go for the biggest jewel or the most obvious piece because that’s what the mark would be checking all day. You choose one of the little things that they might not remember putting on or think they lost at home. If your mark notices what you took too soon you’re bound to get caught.” 

“I hope so,” Jasmine replied. “I already can tell which ones will be complaining in the morning about the food being too rich or the wine too strong and insinuating they need gifts to appease them. We don’t need accusations of thievery to add to that. Especially as they are more likely to blame our servants than realize that a well dressed thief was hidden among the guests.” 

“Like that one over there?” Aladdin jerked his head in the direction of a tall stately man in blue brocade. “Pretty sure that guy has taken at least half a dozen baubles in the last hour.” 

Jasmine took a sip from her wine goblet and rolled her eyes. “I’m glad my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. After you’ve showed me what to look for I feel half a thief myself.” 

“Do you want me to call the guards?” 

“It would be best not to trouble them over a trifle. I’d rather they secure my father’s chambers from assassins than worry about a few bracelets from people who can afford to lose them. I know that makes me a bad hostess but my father’s life is worth more to me than someone’s trinkets.”

“You really think your dad is in danger?” Aladdin stared, this having been the first anyone has mentioned of a possible assassination. Who knew weddings could be so dangerous?

“He’s an old sultan with a sheltered daughter for an heir,” Jasmine gave a terse smile. “That puts him at the top of the list for any rival state. They couldn’t get Agrabah through marriage so they’ll try through death. Either destabilize the whole city or send a very helpful set of advisers and diplomats to aid the poor grieving daughter and her naive new husband. Razoul, Genie, and your brother have made plans to thwart assassination attempts. Mozenrath especially was good at coming up with possible scenarios for us to prevent. I suppose an evil mind has its uses at times.” 

“Why didn’t anyone tell me about this?” 

“Because I didn’t want you to worry and I especially didn’t want you looking for trouble. Trouble finds you without any extra help,” Jasmine leaned against him. “Genie’s enchanted all my father’s plates and cups to react to spells or poison. Mozenrath put enough magic circles in his bed chambers that a mosquito would be hard pressed to get in. Three of the serving girls for the high table are trained bodyguards in disguise. Razoul has done even more. We’ve prepared all we can at this point, but that doesn’t mean it’s not on my mind.” 

Aladdin held back a wince, not wanting the guests to see him making faces and assume it was about them. Why didn’t he think of this? Did it make him selfish that all day he’d just been worrying about his lost family when he should have been paying attention to the people who were his family now? Guilt soured his stomach and pooled there. 

“If you don’t stop that nauseating expression of goody-two-shoes guilt I’ll strangle you with my good hand,” Mozenrath hissed leaning over. “Whatever it is and frankly I do not care in the least, it’s not how your esteemed guests should see you. Be a good future co-ruler and pretend you’re absolutely delighted with every single guest, every entertainer, every morsel of food you’ve put in your mouth and every swallow of wine. Because while your guests are drunk they’re not to drunk to remember what faces the groom was making during the feast.” He pushed a plate of fresh figs and some bread at his brother. “And if you can’t manage that then try to eat.” 

“You could probably do a halfway decent job with the other hand too so I better watch myself,” Aladdin joked weakly, feeling oddly grateful for his brother’s roundabout concern. 

The next hour or so passed by and Aladdin was only aware of the passing of time because the servants kept bringing new places of delicacies at regular intervals and refilled the lamp oil. It must have been past midnight and the feast was still in full swing. Surprisingly Jasmine and the Sultan were as lively as ever, he guessed rich people were used to pacing themselves for these kinds of events. Mozenrath didn’t look lively, but he did keep an air of distant amusement and somehow managed to be more alert than Aladdin. 

“Buck up, Al, it should be winding down soon and then you can make your escape,” Genie-the-steward said. “You can sleep in and the dinners for the rest of the week shouldn’t go on half so long.” 

He nodded sleepily and fended off yawns a little longer. 

-

Agrabah put on a wedding feast nearly as nice as those at the Persian court, Mozenrath decided. Though the guest list was more exotic than any other wedding he’d ever attended so they gained points for the novelty factor. Aladdin had been admirably well behaved the whole day much to his brother’s surprise. Not that he thought Aladdin would get into a fistfight or something, but his temper was easily ruffled by those who made of point of looking down on him and pointing out his low origins. Whether it was the princess’ influence, the genie’s, or both Aladdin had grinned and received everyone happily as they were presented at court that morning. Only during these late hours were his brother’s spirits visibly starting to flag. It was a good thing Mozenrath was at his side to be suitably intimidating lest the idiots in attendance think that Agrabah was weak. When he had been introduced as Aladdin’s brother earlier in the day most of the guests were startled into a fearful reverence and Mozenrath savored it. Good. Let them know that now the clumsy newly made prince had more than wealth on his side, he had one of the most feared sorcerers in the Seven Deserts as his protective older brother. Even without his magic Mozenrath knew how to take revenge and these idiots didn’t even know of his diminished magical abilities. 

“Another seal’s gone off,” the genie said just over Mozenrath’s shoulder. 

“Would-be assassin, careless thief,bumbling guard, or drunk guest?” Mozenrath said by way of reply. He had a small wager on with Captain Shazad about where and who would set off the seals with the genie acting as their referee. So far the two of them had been pretty evenly tied in their guesses. “Ten coins on guard this time.” 

“It’s the northeast tower between the third and fourth floors,” Genie said. “Has to be guard or assassin, there’s nothing worth stealing up there. But there are a few empty chambers that an assassin could camp out in for a few days before they’d be noticed.” 

At this rate Aladdin would be killed before Mozenrath could be cured. While the princess rightfully suspected her father as a prime target, she underestimated Aladdin’s value as a target after the wedding night. In the eyes of other kingdoms the princess would be easier to pressure into marriage if she was a widow rather than a pristine virgin. Of course that only seemed like a good plan if one didn’t know the princess. She’d become more willing to wield her influence and make things happen since she proposed to Aladdin. No sheltered little girl the princess was a woman grown with an iron will and more political savvy than she was given credit for. No, killing Aladdin would bring ruin upon the kingdom that dared attempt the sin. 

“Let the captain know, I’m going to add more seals to the corridors leading to the treasury,” Mozenrath told the genie. “I need to add a few more seals, stay here and don’t get into trouble,” he said to Aladdin. 

Aladdin’s eyes widened and he looked about to get up. “I said stay here. Nothing will happen to me. This is just a precautionary measure. You need to be here for your wife and father-in-law,” Mozenrath felt as though he were chiding a curious kitten. “Stay.” 

On his brother’s other side, Jasmine gave Mozenrath a nod of approval and tried to draw her husband into a conversation with her father while Mozenrath made his escape from the feast. Their were still guests and servants in the halls and gardens adjacent to the pavilion, but a great deal more breathing room in spite of that. This had been the closest to reliving his days in the Persian court. Some of it was entertaining, part of him had missed the vicious dance of court intrigue. But the greater part of him was sharply reminded why he lived alone in the kingdom of Black Sands these days. There came to be a point when it was no longer enjoyable and simply unpleasant. 

And yet the dynamic wasn’t identical. Before he had only his own interests and reputation to safeguard. Having Aladdin to, for lack of a better word, protect had given the whole affair a new edge. And with Aladdin came the additional territory of the princess and the sultan. On the other hand he had also gained back up in the form of a genie and an entire legion of guards. Xerxes was his trusted familiar, but the loyal eel could not serve in the ways a genie could. Of course the genie wasn’t loyal to him, he was loyal to Aladdin and would only assist Mozenrath when his goals benefited Aladdin. 

The mental juggling hadn’t taxed Mozenrath’s mental resources, but the curse was increasingly fatiguing his body with every day. Checking on the seals was as much to actually check on them as it was for him to marshal his strength. The walk was not arduous and not in a hurry to return to the feast Mozenrath took his time inspecting the place that might become a second home. If he did end up staying here the first thing he needed to do was install permanent security measures as the palace was riddled with compromised ingress points, secret passages, and undefended drainage areas. 

The seals to the treasury hadn’t been disturbed, but when Mozenrath turned the next corridor the guards that were supposed to be posted there were absent and it wasn’t nearly time for shift rotation. Behind him there was a swish of stiff silks and the click of a door. When he whirled around he saw a caped and hooded figure sprinting down the hall, nimbly avoiding the nearly invisible seals. “Halt, cowardly thief!” He tried to run after him, but in a hundred paces or so his breath started to give out. 

The thief turned and laughed at him, brandishing his treasure - a jeweled scepter. “You think you can stop me, boy? You can hardly draw breath, sweetling. Run along back to the party and drink some wine and forget you saw me.” 

The voice was deep and masculine Mozenrath noted, he sounded older than Mozenrath by a number of years. He tried to memorize the features of man in front of him because there was little hope of detaining him, but details were difficult to make out in the moonlight and the torches’ flickering made it worse. “This is my brother’s wedding, sir,” Mozenrath said, stalling for time and trying to pull up at least a small spell’s worth of magic. “The only one who’s allowed to be poking through the gifts without permission is me and let me tell you I don’t share nicely with others.” 

A shower of sparks and a thick cloud of smoke exploded in thief’s face just as Mozenrath planned, he didn’t have any energy left for another spell but surprising the man was a good start. He leapt upon the intruder and tried to wrestle the scepter away from him. Mozenrath couldn’t recall which of the many gifts this was, but it had to have been in important for the older man to go for such an unwieldy item when there were smaller treasures of greater value in the same place. An older thief such as this would never make such a rookie mistake. 

Mozenrath had only a few precious moments of overpowering the thief before he was pinned and the scepter out of his hands once more. “I’m sure your brother appreciates the effort, little magician, but you seem to have run out of tricks. Now are you going to be a good lad and leave me be? Or do I have to kill you?”

I’m going to die at this lame wedding, Mozenrath thought hysterically as one powerful hand closed around his windpipe. I’m going to do having tried to do the right thing for for the first time in my life. I knew nothing good could come of family and asking for mercy! Mother was right!

“You know I was fine with you filching bracelets at the feast,” Aladdin’s voice rang out and Mozenrath wondered who alerted him to trouble or if his brother just had a sixth sense for this kind of thing. “Figured it wasn’t enough to bother the guards with. But attacking my brother? That’s a whole other matter.” 

“Has the princeling come to fight? Agrabah doesn’t have guards to defend its royal family,” the thief sneered, never loosening his grip on Mozenrath. 

“You came all this way and you still haven’t heard?” Aladdin threw a punch and at last Mozenrath could breathe again. “I’m no prince. I’m from the streets.” 

Mozenrath gasped for air and tried to stay out of his brother’s way. The two men seemed pretty evenly matched. Aladdin had youth and vigor on his side, but the older man had experience and cunning. They grappled and fought hard in the narrow hallway. Mozenrath tried to call for the guards but his voice could scarcely reach above a whisper from the aborted strangulation. The one time he actually was on the good guys’ side and he was losing spectacularly. 

While his voice was useless his hands were not and when Aladdin knocked the scepter out of the thief’s hands Mozenrath scrambled to secure it. What was so important about this rod that an experienced thief would risk his life for it? Its construction was not particularly pleasing and the single green gem it contained was on the large side, but hardly valuable in the least. Either he was greatly overestimating the thief’s sense or the humble looking scepter contained a very large secret. 

The pair were still locked in battle when the captain and some of his guards came barreling down the hall with all the subtlety of a goat herd. Likely realizing he was finally outnumbered the thief took advantage of Aladdin’s surprise to slip out of his grasp and make his get away. The guards took chose, but Mozenrath knew they would never catch him. Unless he tripped a seal, and considering how easily he avoided them before Mozenrath figured he must sense them somehow, the thief would vanish into the night as if he never existed at all. 

Captain Shazad sent his men ahead but stayed behind to help the brothers to their feet. “Report,” he ordered abruptly as if they were two of his underlings rather than his employer’s son-in-law and brother. Though to Mozenrath’s surprise he did check them both for broken bones and brought a torchlight close to check their eyes for head injuries. A learned man must have trained him or he might have had some army experience to know what to look for, mused Mozenrath. 

“Mozenrath was checking on the seals, I don’t know what happened but I guess he was attacked by the man stealing the scepter. Xerxes, the flying eel thing from before, Razoul, came to get me saying he could feel Mozenrath using magic near the treasury so I left Genie behind to keep an eye on Jasmine and Sultan. When I got here the thief was strangling Mozenrath,” Aladdin swallowed hard. “I was almost too late.” 

“Good call leaving the genie behind,” Captain Shazad gave a curt nod. “It would’ve been nasty if this turned out to be a distraction to lure out and separate assassination targets and it still might be. Don’t speak, sorcerer, you’ll damage your voice. If you need to communicate we’ll get you a pen and paper.” 

“Guess I should get back to the party,” Aladdin said his gaze uncertainly flickering between his brother and the captain. “Or are we going to end it?”

“You can’t go back looking like you were in a fight and it’s not worth getting the servants to redress you when it will be over so soon,” said Captain Shazad brusquely. “Retire to your chambers and we’ll have it circulate that you were feeling ill from the rich food and drink. Ending it abruptly will have the guests guessing that something happened and we can’t have that happen.” 

Aladdin made a face showing his displeasure with the cover story, but it did beat going back to that party that never seemed to end. “Fine, but Mozenrath needs to rest too. He could’ve died using that magic just now. We need to get the ritual done as soon as possible. “ 

Mozenrath was shocked that for once him and his brother were on the same wavelength. The events of the last hour had proven that he needed to be at least physically fit to defend himself even if he couldn’t use the magic anymore. 

“Magic spells are your domain, not mine,” said Razoul. “Do as you please, I will inform the princess and the sultan of the situation after I escort you to your respective chambers and establish that your guards are actually there doing their job.”

“Keep this up, Captain, and someone might actually get the idea that you don’t entirely hate me,” teased Aladdin. 

“I take pride in fulfilling my duties,” was the captain’s only response to the bait. 

Aladdin stubbornly made Mozenrath lean on him even though he wasn’t that badly hurt from the fight with the thief. Some bruising, damage to the throat, and a slight limp did not make Mozenrath any less powerful in the least. It was only after arriving at Mozenrath’s chambers that they all seemed to realize that Mozenrath was still in possession of the scepter. 

“What should we do with this thing?” Aladdin queried. “It’s caused so much trouble already.” 

“If your brother wants to inspect it for magic or fiddle with it until morning, let him unless you have other plans,” Razoul said. “The thief already got it out of the treasury hall one tonight, it might be best to not afford him or any accomplices the same opportunity.” 

Though he was curious about the artifact Mozenrath didn’t have a real preference as he just wanted some sleep and he suspected the same could be said of Captain Shazad.

“It probably is safer with you,” Aladdin said to his brother. “We’ll lock it up somewhere different tomorrow, but feel free to poke it to see what made it so special to that thief. But don’t use your magic if that’s going to hurt you. We’ll do the ritual first thing in the morning. I’d say let’s do it now, but, uh, you probably need your voice to tell us what to do and all.” 

That and Mozenrath was frankly too exhausted to get the ritual right after all that occurred. He needed at least a good night’s sleep and some restorative draughts before they could get half so intricate as a dangerous magical rite done. Having no other way to convey that he just gives his brother a solemn nod before heading into his chambers to sleep off his near lame death experience.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mozenrath and Aladdin attempt the ritual to save Mozenrath's life, but nothing in Agrabah ever goes according to plan.

The next morning Mozenrath had his voice back after a night of fairly decent rest. It had been a tad difficult to fall asleep as Xerxes has been overanxious and self-flagellating over his master’s injuries. However the familiar finally sank into an exhausted sleep allowing his master to follow suit. Mozenrath took his morning meal with the sultan in the royal dining chambers and was surprised to his brother and sister-in-law at the table as well. They certainly didn’t look like pleasantly tired newlyweds, but Mozenrath decided against teasing them. There would be plenty of time for that when he wasn’t dying because of an enchanted glove’s curse. 

“They didn’t catch him,” Aladdin said glumly by way of greeting. “They searched all night and there was no trace of him.” 

Mozenrath didn’t expect them to have caught the man and could hardly believe that Aladdin had expected it. “The important thing is that he did not get what he was looking for and that no one was seriously injured,” said Mozenrath. Of course it was easy for him to be blase about the whole affair. It wasn’t his treasury that was broken into and it wasn’t his staff that failed to catch the thief. 

“You could’ve died!” exclaimed Aladdin. “If I got there just a little later he would’ve killed you or you would’ve killed yourself trying to use magic again.” 

Ah, so it wasn’t about treasure or pride. His little brother was so tender-hearted it was hard to reconcile with Mozenrath’s own worldview. “Better me than you or your wife or His Majesty here,” Mozenrath replied. “I’m dying anyway and a villain to boot.”

“Now, now, young man we were all very concerned,” the Sultan said as he drank his morning tea. “Do not take your brother’s concerns lightly. Family is a very precious thing.” 

“A thousand pardons, Your Majesty,” said Mozenrath. “This is all rather new to me. I am unused to brotherly concern.” 

“Quite all right, dear boy,” said the Sultan. “They tell me you need to perform a little magic to fix yourself up. I do hope it’s not too dangerous, I was telling my daughter that one must be careful with magic. Genie’s magic is quite benevolent, but oh some of those old spells are vicious. I remember my father getting warnings from all sorts of alchemists and sorcerers before any magic could be conducted in court.” 

“Indeed, Your Majesty,” Mozenrath said. He wasn’t quite in the mood to placate kindly old rulers, but he needed the goodwill for the time being and it couldn’t hurt to have a little extra goodwill in the bank as well. “Of course we will not be performing in open court. It shall be a very quiet little affair with the genie supervising and should take no longer than an hour.” 

“Oh, that’s a weight off my mind, young man,” tittered the Sultan. “It seems so dreadfully unfair that you all need to be rushing hither and thither risking your lives and getting into spots of trouble with magic. I worry terribly about my daughter and my son-in-law, but they all assure me that it’s quite safe with Genie around.” 

Mozenrath could see how Jafar spent years here cultivating his power base. There was something endearing and yet so frustrating about the Sultan that made it very easy to manipulate the gentle old man. The man had seen Mozenrath try to conquer his city, but with everyone vouching for his character was willing to put that aside and still worry about him. It would seem like a waste to any power hungry courtier not to steer the man in the direction they needed. 

“Please don’t worry, Father,” Jasmine chimed in. “They have it all under control. We can play a nice game of backgammon in the gardens and they’ll be done before we know it.” The tension around her eyes belied her worry, but either the Sultan didn’t see it or pretended not to as he agreed to the scheme. 

“So Jafar Junior,” the irritating parrot settled on Mozenrath’s shoulders. “This one time shot is really going to cure you? Because why haven’t you done this before?”

“Because this time I will need to give up the glove for good. The moment I put it back on I will likely die an agonizing death on the spot and before I was not willing to give up the magic it afforded me. Secondly, bird, I did not know I had a living blood relative until quite recently.” 

Xerxes hissed and nipped in the parrot’s direction, trying to shoo him off his master. 

“Riiiiight, good luck with that,” said the parrot. 

“Leave him alone, Iago,” Aladdin sighed. “You’re not helping.” 

Breakfast was a bit more subdued after that. 

At first Jafar’s laboratory seemed like an ideal place for the ritual as it had all the necessary equipment with arm’s reach. Then Iago pointed out that Jafar had worked some nasty protection spells into the place and they couldn’t be entirely sure if they were still working. In the end one of the empty tower rooms was selected. Far enough away not to damage any important part of the palace and away from the prying eyes of others. The rite required a great deal of proper preparation and to Mozenrath’s surprise what should have been six hours’ worth of work was done in under two with the combination of the genie, the parrot, and his own Xerxes. Even the too-sentient-for-its-own-good carpet wanted to assist. The monkey did too, but thankfully deferred to the parrot. Something Mozenrath sensed was a rare occurrence. 

“No, Abu, you gotta line up the red stones opposite the black ones,” the parrot corrected without any prompting from Mozenrath or even the genie. “Geez, amateur hour. You can’t mess up a blood rite or everyone will end up dead and we ain’t got a good enough necromancer in the wings to fix that.” 

“You’re unexpectedly competent, bird,” Mozenrath noted as he measured out the powders and the mercury. 

“Jafar didn’t trust human assistants after a while,” the parrot said by way of explanation. “They either kept stealing from him or started thinking they were gonna take his crown as the evilest sorcerer in the joint. And as much as the old boss loved punishing people it just kept interfering with his nefarious experiments.” 

“A wise choice. My own mentor would’ve lived a longer natural life had he Jafar’s foresight. To my benefit and his detriment he did not.” 

“Destane had too much of an ego thing,” if a parrot could be said to shrug this one did. “Jafar did to a point, but he was also a paranoid old bastard. It didn’t hurt that none of his proteges looked like you.” 

Mozenrath preened at the backhanded compliment. “Yet they were both defeated in the end. Very poetically too in light of recent brotherly revelations.” 

“And the star sapphires go here!” the genie sang out before coming to Mozenrath with a show of empty hands. “All done, Mozzie boy, we just need one brother o’ yours, a line of salt to seal the circles, and some sparks from yours truly to get this show on the road.” 

With all the additional assistance the magical framework had transformed into a thing of beauty. Mozenrath had become so accustomed to working only with his familiar that he rarely bothered with elaborate set-ups. With the increased drain on his magical reserves he’d taken to only using the bare minimum preparations when he could get away with it and never troubled with the kinds of fail-safes and protective measures the genie and the parrot had snuck in. 

“Was that anti-possession seal necessary?” Mozenrath frowned gesturing to the intricate Enochian sigil ringing the spell area. 

“Duh, you’re doing a blood ritual,” the genie rolled his eyes though blessedly not literally since that was actually a thing he could do. “Epic light brother, epic dark brother, ceremonial relics, ancient magic, yada yada yada you’re gonna get every third-rate and second-rate demon and ifrit trying to squeeze through the magical cracks at the chance of an easy power up.” 

“Not to mention ol’ Jafar kind of made this place a hot spot for demons for like a decade at least,” added the parrot. “This place is on their little demon maps as a nice place to pick up an odd job in return for a tasty human sacrifice. Maybe at your house o’ the black sands the demons don’t dare drop in uninvited, but you’re not on your home turf anymore.” 

“Ah, duly noted,” Mozenrath had to marvel at how Jafar got away with it for so long. At his old court there were so many magic users that one assumed that at least half of their doings were morally dubious, but as long as it was kept under wraps no one cared. “You can bring Aladdin in now. We’re ready to start.” 

Of course with a genie the wait was nonexistent as the immortal winked out and then winked back into the room with his former master in tow. “Right-o, brother-to-brother magical blood rite is ready to get rolling!” 

“So, uh, where do you want me to stand?” Aladdin squinted in the half light of the chamber. All the windows had been covered in thick curtains to keep out both sunlight and any stray contaminants from entering. 

“Over there,” Mozenrath directed him to the seal painted on the floor that had the black stones surrounding it. “But strip first.” 

“Uh, it’s not that kind of magic, right?” Aladdin gulped. “I mean I don’t want you to die, but you’re my brother and I’m also married and-”

“Oh for the love of —! No, it’s not a carnal rite!” huffed Mozenrath. “Trust me I would never have revealed our blood relationship if that were the case because you would have then been resistant to seduction.” 

Aladdin went redder at the implications, “Uh, you mean you would’ve…?” 

“To save my own life? I would do quite a bit and yes I would have done that without any hesitation or reservations as I very much prefer being alive to the alternative,” said Mozenrath. “However, you never had anything to worry about as your genie and the parrot would’ve spotted out any copulation requirements in the spellwork the moment they saw it.” 

At last his brother started to shed his clothes, “Oh.” 

“How eloquent,” Mozenrath began his own disrobing. “The nudity here is not of in service of any prurient reason. You don’t want things impeding a blood rite and clothing is one of those things. Those fibers used to be alive, part of plants and animals. The last thing we need is for the blood to bypass me and go straight to giving new life to your clothing to create a sentient cloak.” 

“Don’t worry, Al,” the genie guided Aladdin to his seal area. “Me and Iago put fail sales all over the place and did most of the legwork.” 

Platitudes like that got sorcerers killed, but Mozenrath supposed it would probably be best if he brother was more or less relaxed for the rite. Besides his brother wasn’t a sorcerer and was unlikely to be involved in a situation like this again. 

“You ready?” Aladdin asked. Now that he knew it wasn’t ‘that kind of ritual’ he seemed blase about the nudity. Of course Aladdin had nothing to be ashamed of unlike Mozenrath with his skeletal arm, thick scars, and blackened curse marks littering his body. 

“Just about,” Mozenrath removed the enchanted glove and his shirt at long last. He didn’t look to check his brother’s reaction because he didn’t want to see the horror or worse pity in his eyes. 

The room went silent and stayed that way long enough for Mozenrath’s pride to smart. “You’ve seen my arm before,” he snarled at no one in particular.

“Kid, this is bad,” the parrot actually sounded distressed. “Like seriously bad. I don’t think this thing is gonna work. If it was just the arm no problem, but there ain’t enough juice here to get the rest of the job done.” 

“It’ll be fine,” Mozenrath gritted his teeth and still refusing to meet anyone’s gaze handed the dagger to his brother. 

“Okay Al, I gotta stay outside the seals after we start so lemme walk you through this,” mercifully the genie was all business though whether or not he agreed with the parrot’s assessment was ambiguous. “You’re gonna make a cut on your hand here with the dagger and collect the blood in the chalice. Then you’re gonna pour the blood over all the little black stones in your seal and then the last bit of blood over here on the floor where the two seals intersect. Hand over the dagger and chalice to Mozenrath, he’s going to repeat the whole shebang and then say the magic spell that’s when things are really going to happen. Stay in your seal circle until we tell you to step out of it.” 

“That seems easy enough,” Aladdin observed.

“Don’t take this lightly,” hissed Mozenrath in a simmering fury. “The steps are simple but that does not equate to easy. This isn’t some street fair full of laughter and frolics.” 

“He’s right, Al,” the genie pulled a pained face. “It’s going to hurt a lot and I won’t be able to heal you until it’s all over so you have to stay in the circle and try not to move after you’ve handed over the dagger.” 

“What happens if I accidentally end up out of the circle?” 

“You’d probably end up attracting one of Jafar’s favorite demon pals. I used to call him ‘Eyeballs’,” Iago said. “He likes to manifest as a some kind of beast made of eyeballs, but the eyeballs have teeth and he likes to linger over his meals if you catch my drift. So stay put!” 

“Eyeballs, demons, got it,” Aladdin went green around the gills. 

“Gentlemen, let us begin,” Mozenrath said trying not to think of Eyeballs. “Genie, if you would be so kind as to charge the seals?” 

With nary a smart remark the genie crated a ball of magic, crackling and electric, between his hands and let it expand until it burst over the seals. The air inside the room began to grow heavy with a supernatural denseness. Mozenrath cast a wary eye on the monkey, parrot, and his Xerxes. Animals tended to react unpredictably to magic and there was no telling what might happen. Xerxes and the monkey had the most reason to panic as they were about to see their respective masters in great pain very soon. The parrot might have had the strongest tolerance having served Jafar so long and not being particularly attached to either participant. 

Aladdin performed his part ably, untroubled by the blood so far. When he gave Mozenrath the dagger the magician felt a distinct zing. The dagger must truly have belonged to their father to react as such in the rite. When he cut himself the dagger flared with a golden light indicating that not only had it once belonged to their father it must have tasted his blood as well. Hopefully that would add to the spell’s healing potency, it was the next best thing to having their father there. 

With the chalice nearly full Mozenrath poured the blood over his own set of stones and where his seal intersected with Aladdin’s. He intoned the words of the spell as their blood mixed. That’s when everything went hectic to say the least. The gems around the perimeter thrummed with a surge of power and a few began to emit bright lights. There was a scream then a cacophony of screams. Mozenrath had no idea if the screams were originating from him, his brother, the both of them, or some otherworldly source. He couldn’t concentrate on the sounds for long as every nerve lit up in a chaotic rotation pain-pleasure-pain hot-cold-numb raw-muffled-too much. Small wonder the spell had no more words after the blood mixed, neither party would be able to speak under these conditions. 

Out of the corner of his eye Mozenrath saw Aladdin go deathly pale and collapse on the floor, but he could hardly focus on that when veins and arteries were appearing on his skeletal arm accompanied by needle sharp pains. He slumped to the floor as well, clutching the healing arm. Next came the blood pumping through the veins, each beat agony. Then translucent layer after layer of muscle tissue sparked into existence and knitted with joint cartilage then wrapped in unblemished skin, tight and new. 

“He’s dying, you have to stop!” the genie didn’t wait for Mozenrath’s response either not trusting Mozenrath to make the right call or not wanting to waste time. He set off all the fail-safes and Mozenrath could feel the power drain from his circle with a sudden violence. 

Neither of them had noticed that Aladdin’s still bleeding arm had gone a fraction over the edge of his circle until the demon showed up. 

“Nobody invited you today, Eyeballs!” screeched the parrot as he clawed at the creature. “Shoo! Go back to your home sweet home in the Seven Hells!” 

Mozenrath had to admire the gall of the parrot and the monkey trying to swat a demon back to its realm. He certainly didn’t have the nerve or even the energy to raise a hand to the beast. “Do something, Genie!” he shouted hoping the immortal would get the hint and rid them of the threat before it made a meal of them. 

The genie didn’t respond as he hunched over Aladdin trying to heal him. Considering how quickly the genie’s healing magic had worked the other day Aladdin must have been at death’s door and nearly over the threshold to account for such a delay. “Kinda busy here, Mozzie, so stall!” 

“Xerxes, help them!” Mozenrath commanded his familiar. He didn’t hold out much hope that the mini-menagerie could defeat a demon but he couldn’t get to his feet much less fight. 

Xerxes scanned the shelves in record time grabbing two jars one in his mouth and the other wrapped in his tail. He brought them to the monkey to open. The monkey, praise be to the Creator on high, did not hesitate or pause for clarification the way a human might. He simply opened the jars and tossed one to Xerxes and one to the parrot. 

Eyeballs, and Mozenrath never wanted to learn its proper demonic name, was slithering towards Aladdin who still hadn’t regained consciousness in the genie’s arms. It was clear the genie couldn’t fight the demon and heal his former master at the same time. 

“Eyeballs, you want a little salt with lunch?” the parrot cackled as he and Xerxes emptied the contents of the jars onto the multi-ocular horror. For a few skipped heartbeats nothing happened and Mozenrath nearly screamed in impotent rage at his inability to save his brother. Suddenly there came the smell of smoke before the sight of it. Then the acrid sourness of sulfur and a sickly green-yellow fire leapt to life and swallowed the demon whole before extinguishing itself. 

“Purified holy salts,” said the parrot. “That was some good thinking, Xer.” 

His familiar puffed up with pride, “Sssaved my massster.” He paused and added, “And yoursss.” 

“Pfft, Aladdin is not my master. I’ve gone freelance since Jafar.” 

“All three of you,” might as well flatter the monkey since talk was cheap, thought Mozenrath, “were exemplary. We would have died ignominious eyeball-infested deaths otherwise.” 

“They say virtue is its own reward,” the parrot began piously. “But what can I say? I’m a material sort of bird. I prefer presents to praise.” 

“I’m certain we can come to some sort of arrangement,” Mozenrath said. His treasury was not insignificant and he brought some choice pieces with him to Agrabah earmarked for bribery anyway. He could probably get away cheaper with the monkey who seemed more food oriented. 

All the while the genie seemed to be murmuring to his former master as he cradled him in his arms healing him. Mozenrath tried not to listen, not out of any respect for privacy. No, he simply didn’t want to confront the idea that he just might have accidentally murdered his brother. The genie couldn’t technically kill Mozenrath himself. However calling back Eyeballs to do the honors was well within his magical purview. 

At long last, though less than a quarter of an hour Mozenrath figured, Aladdin stirred and and woke, asking “Did we fix it?” 

“Good news, bad news, Al,” the parrot flew over to perch on the genie’s shoulder. “The good news is that someone’s got a brand new arm. The bad news is that, well see for yourself.” 

Mozenrath was about to protest that it was bad news when he looked away from his new arm and down at his body. His old magical scars were pulsing and the black curse lines thicker and larger criss-crossing his torso and beginning to creep down his limbs. The curse hadn’t disappeared, it only took up residence elsewhere. 

“But we did something right?” Aladdin said. “If we fixed your arm we can fix the rest later.” 

Before the genie could throw a tantrum and blame evil selfish brothers, Mozenrath answered, “We can’t fix it like this again. You don’t have enough blood to cure me and live. We need a new plan.” 

“But what if we just did a little bit at a time?” asked Aladdin. “Like every few months or something.” 

“I’d still be dying of the curse, just more slowly,” sighed Mozenrath. “Not to mention it’s never a good idea to use blood magic so often. We are also further hampered by the expense of the spell components. Even with vast wealth at our disposal the items are rare and difficult to obtain. We might be able to attempt the spell once or twice more, but then it would be easily over a decade or two before we could gather the materials needed for another casting and I’d be consumed by the curse before then.” 

“You were so far gone I was nearly breaking the rule of returning people to life,” the genie said to Aladdin. “There’s no way you can do this again, little buddy.” 

“I can’t let you die,” Aladdin said as he looked straight at Mozenrath. 

“I will say the same to you, brother,” Mozenrath shakily got to his feet and walked over, wobbly but determined. “Our enmity belongs to the past. I will not let you die while it is within my ability to protect you. You will not sacrifice yourself for me. We will find another way.” 

What way that was Mozenrath had no idea, but his confidence seemed to calm Aladdin and that was all that mattered for the moment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE 1/19/2017:   
> Can't believe I had the wrong chapter up! Here is the original chapter six with the missing scenes restored. 
> 
> The Oracle speaks at long last.

Both brothers had spent the remainder of the day recovering in their respective chambers. Xerxes and the parrot, Iago, had brought Mozenrath a number of tomes from Jafar’s labs and the royal library for the three of them to inspect for solutions. The genie steadfastly avoided Mozenrath and wouldn’t stray from Aladdin’s side. Which was all for the best as Aladdin was currently more ill than Mozenrath. The princess stopped by his chambers to give him a tongue lashing or so he assumed as the tongue lashing never came. She entered after he had Xerxes open the door and took one look at him and the sea of books and notes littering his bed. 

“You’re not doing that again,” she said, a statement rather than a question. Her countenance held a trace of surprise as though she expected him to be sitting in his rooms plotting to trick her husband into performing the blood rite again. As if Mozenrath even could if he wanted to, Aladdin came bundled with meddling friends and now a wife that wouldn’t allow him to go into such an obvious ploy that could kill him. 

“I’m working on alternatives as you can see. Fortunately Jafar had some rare esoteric texts in his collection that Destane did not so we may yet make progress,” said Mozenrath. “Iago has been quite helpful with the research.” 

“Do you want to ask how Aladdin is?” 

“If Aladdin took a turn for the worse I would know immediately as the genie would have some delightful manner of informing me,” he said. “Since Aladdin is not here insisting that we try again anyway I assume that he is not yet well enough to walk on his own. Thus I assume his condition is stable or very gradually improving. I believed any overture about my brother’s health would be seen as opportunistic or suspect so I have held my tongue.” 

“You assume correctly on all counts,” Jasmine said. “I know you did not intend today to hurt him. You are too straightforward for that. Had you been willing to let him die he would be dead, that I know.” 

“I’m touched by your faith in me,” said Mozenrath bowed his head slightly. “It was easy to disregard his life when he was a foe to me. He is foe no longer.” 

“He means he’s gone a bit soft since he got family,” Iago squawked, not bothering to look up from the text he was scanning. “Who’s he going to compare himself to without little brother?” 

Mozenrath allowed the comment to pass only because the bird had been of great use so far and because the comment put the princess at ease. 

“Who indeed?” She permitted herself a small half smile.   
-  
As the wedding guests were not due to leave for several more days the princess and Mozenrath had to make the rounds entertaining guests from midday until evening while Aladdin convalesced. Mozenrath was loathe to to leave his research at all, but Xerxes and Iago were still tirelessly continuing to assess texts for him. Jasmine also pointed out that he had bought himself more time at Aladdin’s expense. 

“The least you can do is help mitigate the damage you’ve done to his future reign with me,” she said. “Already they are calling it an ill omen for him to fall ill on the night of his wedding. Others are saying that if a pleasant occasion overwhelms him that he will be useless in times of strife and war.” 

“He didn’t fall ill on the night of his wedding,” Mozenrath corrected.

“Yes but our guests do not know that,” Jasmine shot back. “That’s the lie we told them to cover up the treasury break-in. We also both know that my husband is a formidable resilient person in times of peace and strife, but all they see is a gold-digging opportunist of no birth or consequence. Perception is everything to the aristocracy and nobility.” 

“You needn’t try to school me in court politics, Your Grace,” said Mozenrath indignantly. “We simply haven’t the time to play games.” 

“Cities have risen and fallen by the power of their reputation,” snapped the princess. “This is no game and from what they’ve told me of your past you’ve been in courts long enough to know that. Simply because this doesn’t affect you you will treat it as a game. 

Allah in all His Greatness, these people seemed to demand an entire personality change overnight. Just because Mozenrath was not inclined to kill his newfound brother they assumed a new moral alignment to have followed suit. Mozenrath had never vowed to abstain from the indulgence of self-interest. “How about a bargain, Your Grace? If I live through this trying time I do solemnly swear to repair the any damage I’ve done to my brother’s noble reputation before I take my leave.” 

“See that you do,” Jasmine said with such ferocity Xerxes stirred from his reading to give his master a look that said he very much wanted to bite the woman. 

“Xerxes, back to your book,” he warned his familiar. “Sweet sister-in-law nothing would make me happier than building up Agrabah into the envy of the Seven Deserts. If I can’t conquer it nobody else can and I mean to rub it in.” 

Clearly that brand of selfishness the princess approved of if the light in her eyes was anything to go by. “Do you now? We are truly blessed.”

Was that a touch of sarcasm in her voice? Mozenrath found himself becoming the littlest bit fond the princess despite himself. In another life, in another world where his proclivities were different and her morality closer to his they might have been a formidable power couple. 

A soft knock at the door ended their conversation. “Your Grace, honored guest Hippsodeth of Galifem seeks an audience with you, your honorable husband, and His Majesty Sultan of all Agrabah,” one of Jasmine’s maids informed them. 

“Prepare my solarium and I shall be there shortly,” Jasmine answered. “And you,” she turned her attention back to Mozenrath. “Attempt to wear something that doesn’t paint you as an utterly morally deficient sorcerer keeping us all in thrall. Queen Hippsodeth is as a mother lioness where we are concerned these days. She has a penchant for disemboweling those who displease her and her temper is notoriously short.” 

“Now I am properly intrigued,” Mozenrath said. “Perhaps my darling in-laws are less boring than I first believed.” 

An hour later found not only Mozenrath and the princess attending the warrior queen, but Aladdin, the genie, and the Sultan as well. The queen and the sultan were in deep conversation when Mozenrath arrived, but his appearance must have sparked some suspicion in her. Not that she didn’t cut an unusual figure herself as she and her party were clad as ancient Mycenaean warrior women in armor and sandals. 

“Who is this malevolent fop?” Queen Hippsodeth drew a bow and cocked an arrow faster than Mozenrath had believed humanly possible. Her ladies-in-waiting mimicked their queen and soon he was the target of every armed person in the room. Again. “Stay your ground, magician, and you might not die today.” 

“Oh it’s quite alright, my dear Hippsodeth,” the Sultan chuckled and put a hand on her arm. “As it turns out Sorcerer Mozenrath is the long lost brother of our own Aladdin. He is staying in Agrabah for the wedding you see.” 

“He has the bearing of an evil man. Are you quite certain he is not playing a trick upon you all? You need only nod your head and he shall be eviscerated in the blink of an eye.” 

“Ooh, I do love a good evisceration!” a plump redheaded warrior squealed at the queen’s side. “Almost as much as decapitation, but there really is something enjoyable about watching the head roll around.” 

Mozenrath had to wonder how his mother never found her way into this vicious sorority because she would have fit right in. 

“Our own Genie verified the blood match,” Jasmine stepped in before the other warriors could chime in with their own ideas for Mozenrath’s murder. “We thank Your Highness for Her beneficent concern. Indeed your instincts are correct; he is an evil man.” 

“It’s a work in progress,” Aladdin joked from where he was propped up on the cushions. “We were enemies, we find out we’re brothers, foil a treasury heist - it’s all about the middle ground really.” 

“It is the attempted theft that compelled me to call this gathering,” Hippsodeth said, at last setting aside her weapon and taking her seat near the Sultan once more. “The item your thief was attracted to was our wedding gift to you.” She gestured theatrically to where the scepter was sitting on a low table in the center of the ring of cushions. In the afternoon light its lackluster design was even more apparent. 

Mozenrath took his seat as far away from the queen as possible which put him next to his brother which had the added benefit of making him appear as though the fraternal bond was greater than his evil ways. The genie huffed and made room for him on the cushions next to Aladdin. 

“We are so deeply sorry it caused a kerfuffle!” the redhead added. “We thought putting extra guards on it would put the spotlight on it and make things worse. No one was supposed to know what it was except for you all.” 

“Indeed, there must have been a breach of confidence amongst my warriors and it shall be remedied,” Hippsodeth grinned with dark pleasure. “General Scara here will have the choice on the method of execution.” 

Mozenrath admired the warrior queen as she did so remind him of his dearly departed mater. 

“What was the gift, dear Hippsodeth?” asked the Sultan. “There were so many other things to steal that a scepter hardly seems worth the trouble.” 

“As a mark of our great esteem for you and the princess we are bestowing our greatest treasure upon you; the Scepter of the Oracle of Delphi.” There was a dramatic pause, but as none of the Agrabah bunch knew what she was talking about there was only confused silence instead of awe. 

“Delphi has been bereft of an oracle for many centuries,” the Sultan remarked. “No one ever made mention of a scepter. I rather thought the Grecian folk did their divination with water bowls and sacred smoke. That sort of thing.” 

The man was more educated in esotericism than Mozenrath would have guessed. 

“You are correct,” said the queen. “No oracle at Delphi ever used a scepter. However, when the temple and the sacred caves were seized the last oracle killed herself rather than let her powers be used by the enemy invaders. Her sister, a witch of no small skill, placed what was left of the oracle’s magic into a scepter that had been an offering at the temple. That witch later became a Galifem warrior and brought the scepter to our isle where it has been housed ever since.” 

“What does the scepter do? Does it function as an oracle?” Jasmine asked. 

“It functions better than a classical oracle,” Hippsodeth said. “A human channeling the gods has difficulty filtering the divine message coherently resulting in riddles and nonsensical phrases that are usually misinterpreted to the detriment of the seeker.” 

“Yeah, those things are the worst. Jafar tried to find a reliable diviner once and it was like pulling teeth. Everything they said came true, but you couldn’t understand it until afterward so what was the point?” Iago lamented. 

“The true origin of the scepter’s power is a complete mystery!” the redhead, Scara Mozenrath assumed, exclaimed. “Is it the gods communing directly using the scepter as a medium? Is it the ghost of the last oracle finally able to speak clearly now that her mortal vessel has been discarded? Or is a collective of all the souls who ever served as the Oracle at Delphi? Even when you ask the scepter it will only say it is The Scepter of the Oracle at Delphi and reveal no more.” 

“Sometimes us magical types aren’t allowed to show you mortals what’s going on behind the stage curtains,” the genie piped up at long last. “Of course some immortals definitely don’t want to anyway.” 

“That is too generous a gift,” Jasmine said eyes wide. “You surely can’t mean to bestow it on us.” 

“My dear we are of a very practical philosophy on Galifem,” Hippsodeth said. “After the first two centuries of our island nation being established we had no more use for it. We rarely ask it anything as we prefer our isolation. After much conference myself and my advisers felt it would be of greater use to you and your city-state as you are at a crossroads of political and supernatural influence. If you still feel the gift is too much you could always stipulate in a decree that a Galifem emissary be allowed to ask it a question once a decade or so. The only thing we ever ask it these days is where to find an excellent candidate to join our warriors, but even then we prefer to use our own intelligence gathering.” 

“So if no one knew about this little gem, how did our thief even know about it?” Iago perched on the table, wings touching the edge of the oracle. “Why even bother when there are thousands of royal tombs and stashes in the desert?” 

Rhetorical or not the question was still a question and contact had been made with the oracle. Mozenrath could see where this was going and was vindicated when the green gem of the scepter flashed a brilliant light. Eerie music filled the room and the scepter moved itself upright to hover in the air. The ghostly image of a woman garbed in ancient clothing appeared, eyes blank. 

The Galifems were unmoved by the display which made sense as they had probably seen the whole spectacle at least half a dozen times in their lifetime. The Sultan clapped his hands in childlike wonder, Aladdin and Jasmine were suitably impressed for mundane mortals, while the Genie was simply amused. 

“Your question shall be answered!” the spirit of the oracle intoned. 

“That wasn’t a real question! Haven’t you dames ever heard of rhetorical questions? I thought the old Greeks invented rhetorical stuff!” Iago squawked in protest. “I demand a do-over!” 

Whether the oracle was once a human or simply a message from gods, it seemed to possess a sense of humor as it smirked and shook its head. “Your question shall be answered!” she or She or it or They repeated summoning a sphere of light which projected a scene of the heist from the other night. “In his quest to become the greatest thief in the world, the King of Thieves and leader of the notorious Forty Thieves sought out the lost Mycenaean treasures and in his search he stumbled upon a cache of maps and records that mentioned my existence. One moon’s turn ago he learned that an ancient magical scepter, my scepter, was being presented from the Queen of Galifem to the royal couple being wed in Agrabah and put his plan into motion to steal it. Your question has been answered!” 

With a sound like a distant yet thunderous bell the spirit disappeared and the scepter dropped onto the table with a clatter. 

“As you can see,” Hippsodeth said as though oracles interrupted her conversations on a daily basis. “The oracle is clear and consistent. She will answer one question truly be it about the past, present, or future. However a person can only ask her one question in their lifetime.”

The implications were staggering. Mozenrath had at least half a hundred questions he could have asked it, but really there was only one that weighed so heavily he could feel his chest tighten. He could never ask his brother and the princess for access to it, not after what he’s done and especially not after nearly killing his brother. Would he have to ask it under cover of darkness?

“That King of Thieves was thinking way to small,” Iago commented. “Princess, think of what you can do with this thing! You can charge people or what do they call it, ‘request donations’ to ask their questions. You’d have ten times the fortune in your treasury even if you charged a modest price.” 

The queen raised an eyebrow but didn’t seem to object to the scheme. The princess however shook her head and rolled her eyes at the parrot’s ingenuity. 

Aladdin for some reason seemed itching to grab the scepter if his wriggling attempts to get away from his nest of cushions. Mozenrath handed the scepter to him since no one else seemed to have any use for it. 

“Don’t ask any questions or make any smart remarks while holding it,” Mozenrath reminded him. “You do not want to waste the most important question you may ever ask in your lifetime.” 

“Don’t worry,” Aladdin grinned and that should have been Mozenrath’s warning. “There’s only one thing I need to know. Oracle, how can I save my brother from the curse that’s killing him-” The genie elbowed him gently. “-and not have me die in the process?” 

“You’re going to co-rule a city-state and you waste your one oracle query on me?” Mozenrath didn’t know if he was more angry at his brother’s sacrifice or touched, but it was definitely a mixture of both. 

“I don’t need to know the future. Whatever it is me and Jasmine and Genie will handle it as it happens. But we don’t know how to fix this,” Aladdin patted Mozenrath’s shoulder. 

“Your question shall be answered!” the oracle’s voice rang out and the magical light show commenced once more. Perhaps it was overly theatric and less impressive seeing it twice in such a short time, but Mozenrath figured an oracle couldn’t exactly turn off its summoning process. 

Much to his surprise the oracle showed the Forty Thieves once more as well as a series of images in the desert. “Your elder brother needs the blood of two close relatives to banish his curse without causing the death of those relatives. Your shared father still lives trapped in the world of the Forty Thieves. If you follow the trail of the Forty Thieves to their hideout there you will find your sire and be able to use his blood to complete the rite of healing. Your question has been answered!” 

“Trapped in the world of the Forty Thieves,” Aladdin frowned deeply. “I can’t believe he’s been alive this whole time and never came back to Agrabah. When did he get mixed up in all of this?” 

With the delicate phrasing of the oracle Mozenrath rather suspected that their father was one of the Forty Thieves as there would be no reason for thieves to make hostages of men of no rank. If that were the case then it would be entirely understandable why the man never came back and why his own mother chose the man - career criminals tended to be bastards after all. Judging by the Galifems’ expressions the careful wording wasn’t lost on them though they seemed unwilling to accuse the princess’ husband of being the son of a thief. 

“That settles it,” Jasmine said firmly. “You’ll both go and find your father and free him from the Forty Thieves while we secure the scepter from any other would-be intruders.” 

“Now I feel so much better!” Scara interrupted. “Here I was thinking we made of mess of things giving you the oracle scepter and now it’s gone and made it so you can reunite with family!”

Reunite to siphon off his sire’s blood in attempt to restore his body didn’t seem much like a typical family reunion, but Mozenrath was nothing if willing to be unconventional.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1/19/2016: UPDATE  
> This was originally posted as Chapter 6 mistakenly. Sorry for the mix up!
> 
> Aladdin and Mozenrath seek out their father in the den of the Forty Thieves.

Aladdin still needed a few more days to recover which gave Mozenrath ample time to prepare. He needed to take everything necessary because he assumed the would do the ritual as soon as possible. Waiting to come back to Agrabah was not an option now that he no longer had a clear visual indicator of how the curse was progressing. The plan was simple, find their father, get him to do the rite, and then everyone part ways. The fact was so simple that Mozenrath didn’t think there would be a need for clarification until the horses were saddled up with their packs and the Carpet fluttering around them anxious to set off. 

“Where is the genie?” The lamp was conspicuously missing all morning, but he had thought nothing of it as Aladdin usually did not like to have it openly displayed. “I see neither him nor the lamp.” 

“With Jasmine, why?” Aladdin mounted his horse unsteadily, betraying his low birth. Likely they would have to break frequently as Aladdin clearly had never had done any hard riding in his life. 

“I believed he was joining us that’s why,” Mozenrath said. “As I cannot use magic and cannot perform the ritual on my own it is vital for the genie to accompany us and how was that not clear?” 

“Jasmine and the Sultan need to be protected.” 

“That’s what guards are for! You have an entire palace full of them! I even assisted them with extra security measures,” he snarled, all patience lost. “What good is hunting down our father if I cannot even perform the ritual we needed him for?” 

“I thought you might be asking that,” the big blue obnoxious entity floated up next to Mozenrath. “Open your hand and say please.” 

Mozenrath glowered, reaching out his hand and opening it. 

The genie dropped three stones in his palm, each the size of a dried fig and each shimmering faintly. “Three charges of walloping magic courtesy of your truly. Should cover the ritual and give you two extra blasts for emergencies. Sorry I can’t give you fellas anymore, these took all I had for the last few days.” 

In a perfect world they would only need the one. They didn’t live in a perfect world. The three were likely going to be used up before Mozenrath knew it because trouble was something that dogged Aladdin’s steps day in and day out like it was a stray cat that he fed once and it didn’t know when to quit begging for attention. Still it was better than having no magical back up on the journey.

“And how do I use them?” 

“Just reach for the magic in them with your glove,” Genie answered. “Or smash them. Either works great. Remember they’re only good for one blast each, you can’t do any long term low energy level spells with them.” 

“Duly noted,” Mozenrath held one up to the light to see the interplay of magic in the stone and was humbled by the intricacy of the spellwork. Not that he expected anything inferior from a genie to be sure. 

The sound of a small scuffle to his side drew his attention and he saw the monkey clambering up Aladdin’s horse sit on his master’s shoulder. Iago flew back and forth as though he vacillating between Aladdin and Mozenrath as a perch or rather whether he wanted to tolerate the monkey or Xerxes for the first leg of the journey. 

“You’re not staying at the palace, bird?” Mozenrath asked. “A dusty ride to a den of thieves doesn’t strike me as your thing. A family reunion even less.” 

“Eh, if I stay here it’ll be too much Genie for me. He gets really show-offy when he’s bored and I’d rather not be shape-shifted and pranked for weeks on end. Besides a den of famous thieves oughta have some choice loot,” Iago settled on Mozenrath’s shoulder. “Not to mention I gotta look out for the monkey and the rug; they’re lost without me.” 

“I can see how that would be the case.” 

Aladdin was saying something to Genie while Mozenrath had been distracted by the animal companions and the scene was now looking entirely too cozy as they embraced. He sincerely hoped that his brother was being careful and not cavalier with the feelings of an immortal. That path led to all sorts of unpleasant outcomes. 

“Ahem, I believe we were about to be on our way, brother,” Mozenrath said. “Though I am disappointed we don’t merit a royal send-off.” 

“Aw, did you want Jasmine to come and give you a parting insult?” joked Aladdin. 

“I just thought your wife and father-in-law might want to say some parting words that’s all,” he replied primly. 

“I already said my goodbyes to them earlier this morning. I didn’t think you wanted in on mushy fare-thee-wells or are you thinking of them as family already?” Aladdin’s eyes sparkled with mischief and it was definitely not an endearing trait. 

“Perish the thought,” Mozenrath said. “You and an errant estranged father are already more family than I require.” 

“He hasss me!” Xerxes added, crowding the shoulder not acting as Iago’s perch. “We don’t need you!” 

Genie must have gotten over his fear of Xerxes as he came over to pull the eel into a hug. “Aww, we’re gonna miss you too! Who’s the funniest little slimy flying eel? Is it you? Is it you?” Genie said in the tone one might regale an infant or a baby animal with. 

Xerxes pouted as he wriggled out of the immortal’s grasp yet to Mozenrath’s surprise he did not attempt to bite the genie. Instead he went to hid under Mozenrath’s traveling cloak. 

“All right, boys, happy trails,” the genie waved them off. “Get going, the sooner you go the sooner you’ll be back home again!” 

A horse came trotting up to the group and on its back was Captain Shazad. “Let’s get you to the city gates. You have a long ride ahead and I have to be back to brief the second shift of guards at midday.” 

“An escort by the captain? When did we become worthy of the honor?” Mozenrath wondered. 

“Since your brother married the princess of our city and you became an in-law to those royals. The city is still full of strangers from the wedding and you are a pair of targets very tempting to the wrong sort of people,” Captain Shazad said. “I would be no sort of captain at all if I let you ride to the border without an escort. Considering you won’t have the genie or your magic, sorcerer, I thought it would be best if I led the escort.” 

“We’ve got a chore wheel and everything for the security of Agrabah while you’re gone!” the genie pulled a chart out of thin air that detailed shifts and schedules for the guarding of the palace and its inhabitants. “So be good boys and let Razoul here take you to the perimeter without a fuss while I join the princess and Sultan for breakfast. A merchant prince from Xi’an sent the most amazing fruit basket of things we’ve never tasted so we’re going to have just the loveliest time.” He patted each brother on the head before Mozenrath could object and flew away just as quickly. 

They rode in near silence through the city, taking side roads and shortcuts as dictated by Captain Shazad. No one bothered them and no one seemed to recognize either brother in their subdued traveling garb. 

“Your seat is atrocious,” Razoul muttered at one point. 

“Who me?” Aladdin asked not fully understanding the remark. 

“He means you ride ill,” Mozenrath clarified. “Your seat refers to your whole body posture as you ride the horse. A bad seat not only indicates you’re no seasoned rider, but will also cause you more pain as you ride.” 

“It’s not my fault I didn’t grow up rich or join the army,” Aladdin said. 

“You rely on that carpet too much,” the captain shot back. “You need to learn to ride properly. I’m surprised His Majesty the Sultan has not ordered riding lessons for you as His Majesty is one of the most remarkable horsemen of his generation.” 

“It’s sort of late for lessons now,” Aladdin pointed out. 

“It is never too late and you shall have some lessons when you return even if I have to teach you myself,” Captain Shazad said brooking no refusal. “If not for your own sake think of the princess’ reputation. You must ride on horseback during festivals and parades, you must join the polo games visiting nobles will undoubtedly organize. Do you want to prove them all right? Do you want to be known as the street rat who tricked a princess into marriage and can’t be bothered to learn a few social graces?” 

Judging by his little brother’s pout Mozenrath could see that the captain had struck a nerve and hard. 

“Fine, fine,” huffed Aladdin. “I’ll learn proper riding when we get back and you can criticize me all day as much as you like.” 

“I’m holding you to that promise,” said the captain. “Your brother and the bird are my witnesses. And the flying eel too, I suppose.” 

They finally came to the edge of Agrabah’s city limits and were taken to the gatehouse to be briefed on the most recent sightings of bandits and other hazards in the desert surrounding the city.

“I’d tell you not to take unnecessary risks, but I’d be wasting my breath on you lot,” Captain Shazad said by way of parting. “Try not to get killed out there.” 

“Our thanks, Captain Shazad,” Mozenrath was determined to make up for his brother’s lack of manners.

An hour later found the brothers riding south of Agrabah, the city looming behind them on the horizon. 

“Ugh, I don’t get Razoul’s problem with me. So I got lucky with the lamp, that’s not a reason to hate someone,” Aladdin broke the companionable silence. Mozenrath had to wonder if he waited this long because he was genuinely afraid the guardsman had supernatural hearing or if he’d just been stewing on the matter for the last hour. 

“I believe you told me at one point that you were at odds while you were still living on the streets.” 

“I only stole bread to eat! He didn’t have to come down on me like a was a murderer!” Aladdin fumed at the memory. “There were way worse crimes going on in Agrabah every hour of every day!” 

“Yes perhaps you were only ever seen stealing bread, but did it occur to you that many criminals are only caught in the act of petty crimes and that they hide a multitude of sins that are never seen by officers of the law? You can even use me as an example if you like. For every evil deed you’ve seen me do I assure you there were dozens more and very few of them witnessed or rather very few resulted in witnesses being left alive. It’s not difficult to imagine that the guards assumed a nimble clever young man such as yourself was a party to even more heinous crimes and that these open obvious thefts were your way of taunting them,” Mozenrath did so love parading his superior intellect when he had the opportunity.

“And did you forget about Jafar?” Iago added. “I mean jeez I know you got rid of him, but c’mon it wasn’t that long ago.” 

“What does Jafar have to do with anything?” Aladdin looked askance at the parrot. 

“What does Jafar have to do with anything? Are you kidding me?!” Leaving his perch on Mozenrath’s shoulder Iago flew over to Aladdin to land on his turban. “Jafar ruled the Agrabah underworld with an iron fist. Every lowlife in the joint was paying him to keep the guards off their back and he used that creep tax to fund his amazing laboratory of wonders. Ensorcelled monkey paws don’t come cheap, sorry Abu, and neither do pieces of fallen stars, the hair of saints, and any other of the insanely rare magical things he wanted. The only people the guards were allowed to go after was petty thieves in the marketplace because they were too low on the crime ladder to bother with. You think they really cared about food being filched from merchants or amateur pickpockets? Of course not! But it’s the only thing they could do for over a decade so they got zealous in their boredom. Granted we also stacked the deck with bullies and brutes.” 

“Your question has been answered,” Mozenrath laughed. 

“That’s not funny,” said Aladdin, pout returning. He did however have a pensive air now which gratified Mozenrath as it meant there were some brains in that head of his. 

“I will also say, brother dear, that while to you it seemed like getting lucky, to outsiders the whole affair is highly suspect. A known thief of low origins is arrested for trying to kidnap the princess and is imprisoned. He escapes prison and acquires - and let’s be frank everyone is assuming ‘steals’ - a magic lamp,” Mozenrath held up a finger to keep his brother from speaking. “Let me continue. The first thing this thief does with the lamp is use it to commit gross fraud upon the royal family so that he can attempt to marry the princess. Just as the fraud is uncovered the Sultan’s most trusted vizier disappears and is assumed to have been murdered. How on Earth would people not find you suspicious? Least of all the captain of the guards who was sworn to protect everyone in the palace and yes that includes the vizier.” 

“Jafar was evil and using magic to hypnotize the Sultan! And I didn’t kill him!” Aladdin flailed his arms wildly enough that he nearly unseated himself from his mount. Luckily the even-tempered mare wasn’t startled in the least. Whoever chose the mounts was smart enough to anticipate that they would need steady well-trained horses for their unusual errands. 

“Details, details,” yawned the parrot. 

“Yes, because that is common knowledge to everyone in Agrabah and the Seven Deserts. The truth ceases to become relevant once the lie has traveled ahead of it.” Mozenrath sidled his horse up closer to Aladdin’s. “Don’t gesticulate so much. If you fall off the horse and break your ankle the princess will never believe it was an accident. I’ll be in the dungeons before I can explain it was your predisposition towards effusive full body explanations.” 

“I guess it does sound worse when you put it like that,” Aladdin said glumly. He slumped in the saddle. “I thought people would stop judging me once I became a prince.” 

“Oh my foolish little brother,” Mozenrath shook his head, bemused. “People judge princes even more harshly than commoners.”

“That’s not reassuring.” 

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](juniperstreet.tumblr.com) for fic snippets, open drabble requests, and other miscellany! I love to meet new fandom folk so send me a message any time!


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